Heart of a Hufflepuff
by em-ily8458
Summary: Amelia Honeycutt: She lost her best friend Cedric Diggory to the Dark Lord. She's got the quirky Phoebe Hibbert by her side, rats and all. She's (probably) in love with Fred Weasley. She might be the subject of an old family prophecy. And, as if that wasn't enough, there's a war brewing. (Current: OotP, eventually post DH.) Don't be afraid to review! :-)
1. A New School Year

**So, yes, deleted one fic, and reworked it into this one, which I think will be much better.**

**As always, I enjoy hearing your thoughts/feedback/requests! You guys keep me writing, and I love y'all for that! Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy! :D**

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Here we go again.

Those four words rang through Amelia Honeycutt's head as she approached Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station. She was now a fifth year, and a Hufflepuff Prefect who'd been secured a spot on the Quidditch Team by Captain Cedric Diggory, though she really had no interest in the sport. He'd only offered because she was friends with Cho Chang, who he'd been extremely interested in lately, though he was oblivious to the fact that Cho Chang was obviously just as interested in him. There was also the fact that Cho wanted her to play Quidditch for Hufflepuff because Cho was very sure that the Ravenclaw Keeper, Grant Page, fancied Amelia greatly, though they'd only talked one night when Cho dragged her along to the Three Broomsticks.

But she had all year to laugh at social politics and try to stay out of the way of her much sought after friend(s). Right now, she had to worry about getting on the train.

Unlike many of the other Hogwarts students, Amelia didn't have parents or guardians or any family members at all to usher her off on the train. She had to do it all by herself, but she didn't mind, she always had to do things for herself for as long as she could remember, seeing as she was an "orphan" and all. Though she was technically an "orphan," she hated the term. Whenever she heard that word she thought of muddy, sad, miserable children struggling to survive, which she certainly wasn't. She knew she was perfectly well off, shuffled through foster homes and orphanages, but perfectly well off, especially with Hogwarts, none the less.

She'd woken before the sun rose that morning, packing her trunk and saying her goodbyes to Mrs. Fairfax, the kindly older lady who ran the "orphanage" Amelia was in and out of her whole life, and was off to the train station in her town of Eastleigh to catch the train to London. She did her best to stay calm, and try to make it seem normal for her to have a cat - technically, half a cat, half a kneazle - poking its lazy head out of her large over-the-shoulder satchel/purse.

Now, though, she didn't have to worry about it. She was at Platform 9 ¾, among fellow witches and wizards, and boarding the train to her favorite place in the whole entire world - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And, after loading her trunk into one of the compartments, she was off to the Prefects' compartment for the first time, which made her stomach feel as it would erupt with butterflies.

The train had already been lurching along for some time, before the ever-lost Amelia finally found her way to the Prefects' carriage.

"Oh, er, Amelia Honeycutt, correct?" inquired the Head Boy, Eric Chadwick, a seventh-year Ravenclaw.

"Er...yes," she nodded, pushing her honey-brown hair out of her face, as she shuffled inside. "Sorry I'm late, never been good with directions…"

"It's alright," Eric nodded. "Have a seat, we've only just begun."

"Oh, er...thanks…," Amelia muttered with a small smile, as she made her way through the crowded compartment to stand crammed by the window, the only available space.

Seeing Amelia's apparent clumsiness, Karla Farley, one of the Slytherin Prefects in Amelia's year seized the opportunity and oh-so-discreetly stuck her foot out, causing Amelia to trip and stumble. In the whole fiasco, Amelia's black and white splotched furball of a half-cat, Maggie Mae, was propelled out of her napping spot in her owner's bag.

Though half of the kids sniggered at her, she didn't seem to mind as she simply picked up the couple of books and quills that spilled out, and marched over to her spot by the window, apologizing fervently.

"I think you missed this," Cedric Diggory grinned, as he scooted closer to her. Maggie Mae was in his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the fact that one of the handsomest boys at Hogwarts was holding her.

"Oh, thanks, Ced," Amelia mumbled, a half-smile on her face. To her, he was handsome, sure, but no more than a friend. She was not exactly a relationship-type person, nor did she ever expect to be in one. "How was your holiday?"

As Eric Chadwick and Gryffindor Head Girl Louisa Gifford continued their speech, Cedric leaned closer to Amelia and replied, "Great, except for the scare at the World Cup…I reckon even you heard about that, eh?"

"Uh, no, actually…," Amelia muttered, looking up curiously at Cedric as Maggie Mae helped herself back to the bag. "I didn't…"

His expression greatly changed, as he told her lowly, "Oh, then I'll have to tell you later," he paused, smiled again, and then asked, "Did you have a good holiday yourself?"

Amelia shrugged. "Alright. Rather boring, no magic and all Muggles. What's this business about the World Cup, though?"

"I said I'd tell you later," Cedric said hurriedly, as he leaned away slightly. Clearing his throat, he added, "We'd better listen up, anyway."

After her first Prefect meeting aboard the Hogwarts Express, Amelia patrolled the length of the train, with Cedric. In all honesty, she would've preferred to do so alone, so she could have some quiet time to herself and get to see all the new faces entering the school. But, Cedric was so nice, and he had the information about the World Cup, which was eating away at her since she didn't know.

However, after he told her of the events, she almost wished she hadn't asked.

"So they're…He's…," she stuttered, in a way that would've been unusual for anyone but her. "…back?"

Cedric chewed his bottom lip, and looked ahead, instead of at her, as he vaguely answered, "Don't know. Really don't know yet."

They took a few strides in silence, both trying to process the thoughts and fears that ran in their minds.

Then, changing the subject, Cedric asked, "I reckon you haven't heard about the Triwizard Tournament, eh?"

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Amelia echoed. She smiled at him, because he'd figured out that she had not the slightest idea of what she was talking about.

"Yeah, the Triwizard Tournament," Cedric grinned. "You see, the two other wizarding schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, will come to Hogwarts, an each school will have a champion who competes in all kinds of really difficult challenges that require a good deal of magic to figure out. The winner gets a big bit of prize money, though, so I figure its worth it."

Now with a grin of her own, Amelia inquired, "Cedric Diggory! Are you thinking of becoming the Hogwarts champion?"

Chuckling, he shushed her, and added, "Shhh, shh, not everyone knows yet. Chadwick only just informed the prefects before you walked in. But, yes, I am thinking of putting my name in, thank you."

Amelia chuckled with him for a moment, before she caught her Ravenclaw friend, Cho Chang, hanging out of a compartment, an eager grin on her face as she waved.

"Oh, hello, Cho!" Amelia smiled, waving back. Knowing the situation, Amelia turned back to Cedric, and mumbled, "Oh, well, I've got to go track down the lady with the cart, I'm awfully thirsty…see you at the feast, Ced."

"Oh, er, Amelia, I - …" Cedric stumbled as she made her way away from him. "Er, alright, see you then!"

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That evening, as she sat in the Great Hall, sandwiched between Phoebe Hibbert, a girl who always had rats hiding in her pockets, and Jonah Merrick, a boy who had a horrible habit of chewing with his mouth open while talking, Amelia enjoyed the Sorting and other typical beginning of the year activities. She was happy to welcome new first years into the Hufflepuff house, and looked forward to getting to know them - that was one thing about Amelia, she always tried to get to know everyone she came in contact with, almost to a fault.

"You know, you could have one - or a couple - if you wanted to," Phoebe told Amelia, sipping her pumpkin juice. She was talking about her rats, which she 'bred' in her free time. "I've got a litter of babies, up in the dorm."

"That's very nice, but I don't know if Maggie Mae could live with a rat," Amelia replied politely.

"But we've been roommates for ages, and Maggie's never gotten any of 'em in the past," Phoebe responded, mixing the whipped cream in with her chocolate pudding, as a pure-white rat climbed down the back of her neck. She didn't even seem to notice. "She's a good cat, I doubt she'd give 'em any trouble. You know, if you want, I can give you one of the special ones," she paused, and leaned in closer to Amelia with a smirk, adding, "I bred some of 'em with murtlaps. I have a load that are half-breeds, they're awfully fascinating, if you're interested."

"You know, er, I'd love to, but…I couldn't really take one home, the foster home wouldn't like rats…or murtlaps," Amelia said politely, managing a meager smile.

"Oh," Phoebe sighed. "That's alright. I understand."

Amelia nodded, and looked back down to her plate, which was cleared, magically.

"So!" called Dumbledore, smiling out to the students in the hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for you attention, while I give out a few notices."

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Banishing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check."

Amelia noticed that the corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, before he continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year."

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Immediately, the crowd broke out in roars of protests, however, Dumbledore broke in by adding, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure that you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts - …"

Again, Dumbledore was interrupted, but not by students this time, instead by the tremendous sound of the doors to the Great Hall bursting open. All of the heads in the hall whipped around, to see a rather frightening man standing in the doorway.

His face was marred and scarred, and part of his nose seemed to be missing. His gray hair was thin but wild, and his clothes were tattered and ragged and worn. His mouth looked more like a poorly carved mouth on a jack-o-lantern, rather than an actual human mouth. But, none of these features were what made him truly terrifying - it was the eyes on him.

One eye was a regular eye, small, dark and beady. The other eye was most obviously artificial, electric blue and strapped in the eye socket, as it was in constant motion, unblinking, and fluttering in all directions. It even went completely into the back of his head, remaining pure white for a moment, before going back to leaping about.

The stranger reached over to Dumbledore, who embraced each other and seemed to be having a small conversation. Dumbledore seemed to ask the strange man something, to which he replied, and then Dumbledore nodded, and then pulled the man to his side.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

Though at this point, it would've been typical for the hall to erupt in applause, it didn't happen. Only Dumbledore and Hagrid and Amelia clapped. Everyone else just stared at the man called Moody.

"What's wrong with this Moody fellow?" Amelia inquired in a hushed tone.

"He's a madman," Herbert Fleet, a friend of Cedric's, and also the Hufflepuff Keeper, piped up. "Used to be one of the best Aurors out there, but now he's a complete loon."

As always, Cedric noticed that Amelia had no idea what an Auror was, and told her, "An Auror is a dark wizard catcher. They work for the Ministry."

"Ah," Amelia nodding, grinning at Cedric.

Just to think, if she hadn't fallen down the stairs on her second day of Hogwarts, she would've never secured him as a friend. He just happened to be there, and being the good second year he was, helped her up and helped her find her way. Somehow, Cedric, Mr. Popular, and Amelia, Miss Rather-Popular-But-Still-Slightly-Peculiar ended up being the best of pals. Somehow.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore began again. He was smiling at the students, who only continued to stare at Moody. "We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley hollered from the Gryffindor table.

Now everyone had stopped staring at Moody, so that they could begin laughing. Even Dumbledore chuckled.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore assured him. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Amelia would've loved to hear the rest of the joke, but McGonagall interrupted by clearing her throat.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time…no…," Dumbledore mused. "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

At the mention of 'death toll,' everyone glanced back and forth at one another. However, Dumbledore simply continued.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," he continued. "None of which have been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons in personal prize money."

Again, the hall seemed to burst with excitement and whispers of hope, the awesome idea of winning the glory, and of course, the prize money. This seemed to go on for a good few minutes, until Dumbledore decided to continue his speech once again.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he stated. "The heads of participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This," Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious, "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Needless to say, many students didn't go without a fight..


	2. Fanged Frisbees

**Hey guys! Here's another chapter! I'd like to thank UltimateFangurl1 and alb33 for the favs and follows, I really do appreciate it!**

**I love hearing thoughts/comments, it keeps me motivated to stay writing and I might even use your suggestions! I know this chapter is a bit shorter as well, but the lengths will vary. And though it may be shorter, I hope this gives you all a slightly better idea of Amelia's character, and that she's not just a clumsy ditz.**

**Either way, I hope you guys enjoy! :D**

**p.s. - I tried watching the Deathly Hallows again last night, but I couldn't do it.**

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"Y'know, you're a Prefect now, you probably should say something to them," said Leanne, jerking her head towards a couple of younger Gryffindor students playing with a Fanged Frisbee. "You heard Dumbledore; Fanged Frisbees are banned."

Momentarily, Amelia glanced up at the younger students, and then looked back to her Potions book, saying, "Why? They're only having fun. No bother to me."

Leanne rolled her eyes. "Amelia, when are you going to learn? I don't even know who in their right mind made you a Prefect, you break more rules than anyone…"

Interrupting her, Amelia raised her eyebrows and said, "Ah, but you see, I have a talent for not getting caught. And that's all that matters. Besides, I stutter so badly half the time that everyone thinks I'm some innocent little fairy. Sure, I'm a klutz and a dweeb, but not at all an innocent little fairy."

"That's very true," Leanne chuckled. "You wear the sweetheart mask very well for being such a rabble-rouser…like last year, when you turned that Slytherin bloke from the Quidditch team…Warrington, I think his name was. Well, you did a number on him when you made him turn furry and sprout whiskers last year. All the professors thought it was the Weasley twins who'd done it, and they were so impressed they didn't even try to get out of the detentions."

Amelia furrowed her brow a little, recalling, "Yeah, but I didn't get that quite right…I wanted to give him the face of a badger, you see, after all those horrible things he said about Cedric and our Quidditch team. He looked more like a fat, ugly bear, but I suppose that was good too."

"Very good," Leanne nodded. "I think I even saw McGonagall crack a smile at that one."

"McGonagall?" Amelia rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. I don't think McGonagall's used those muscles in years; I doubt she remembers how to smile."

"Its a wonder that you didn't get into Gryffindor," Leanne mused.

"Not really," Amelia shrugged. "I'm not exactly brave enough."

"Don't put yourself down," Leanne sighed. "Anyway, how's Potions treating you? I remember fifth year Potions, it was a dread, preparing for O.W.L.s and all…in a way I'm kind of glad I didn't make it into Snape's N.E.W.T class."

"It's not that…not that…bad," Amelia replied. "I keep getting E's on the assignments, though I suspect Snape's just too much of a git to give me the full O I really deserve. I mean, look at this…"

Bending over, Amelia pulled out the first essay they'd been assigned in Potions, a foot and a half of parchment, and unrolled it, revealing an essay that was written extremely neatly and filled out the complete required space. It was Amelia's pretty printing, but at the top, in a different handwriting, said, "_E. Could've been an O though, Miss Honeycutt_."

"You must be top in your class!" Leanne exclaimed, looking down at Amelia's parchment. "Snape's a tough grader, he usually favors the Slytherins…now I'm starting to wonder if you really should've been in Ravenclaw like Flitwick always tells you!"

"I'm perfectly happy in Hufflepuff, Leanne," sighed Amelia, snatching her parchment back and stuffing it in her bag. "And please, don't ever tell me I belong in Slytherin."

"Well, you're cunning enough for it at times," Leanne joked. "But being Muggle-born eliminated your chances there, so I guess I can't say you're a real Slytherin."

"Thank Merlin," groaned Amelia. "I might've had to test out one of my new hexes on you if you told me I was."

"Not a month in school and you're already back to your 'inventing,'?" Leanne asked, though she used the word 'inventing' lightly. "Blimey, I don't know how you've got time to do all of this. And I really don't know how you got made a prefect."

"Well, I do have the time for it, and I don't get caught doing it," Amelia winked, gathering her things from where they were sitting in the courtyard. "I'll see you, Leanne, I do think I fancy a game of Fanged Frisbee right now."

Leanne rolled her eyes as she watched Amelia approach the younger students, calling, "Pass it here, will you?!"

At first the younger students looked puzzled, as Amelia bore her Prefect badge on her chest, but after Amelia assured them that they would not be getting into any sort of trouble, they let her in, and soon enough, they were all laughing their heads off as they passed around the infamous Fanged Frisbee. Leanne rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sight, but what did she really expect from Amelia Honeycutt? Nothing more, nothing less, really.

"Miss Honeycutt!" came a voice that clearly belonged to the tiny Professor Flitwick. The kids all whipped around to face him, while Amelia held the frisbee and quickly dropped her smile, as he continued, "I see you've done a nice job confiscating a Fanged Frisbee! I do say, five points to Hufflepuff for such mannerly Prefects!"

"Thank you, Professor," Amelia smiled, calmly and cooly, as the others stared at her in suspended disbelief.

"Would you like me to deliver it to Mr. Filch for you?" Flitwick offered, extending a hand.

"Oh, no thank you, sir," Amelia responded. "That's lovely of you to offer, but I know how busy you must be, between teaching and preparing for the Triwizard Tournament. I don't mind bringing it straight to Mr. Filch's office on my way to Divination."

Looking utterly flattered by her apparent consideration, Flitwick said, "Ah, so kind and thoughtful! Thank you, Miss Honeycutt, I do look forward to seeing you in Charms tomorrow!"

"Same to you, sir!"

After Flitwick disappeared down the corridor, Amelia turned back to the younger students, and tapped the frisbee with her wand, causing a duplicate to appear.

She explained, "No need to fear here, you lot keep the original, and I'll take the copy here to Filch, just in case Flitwick checks up that I delivered it. Just be careful, the other Prefects and professors will probably get you for it, and I'd love to play again with you."

"You're the best!" exclaimed a wide eyed boy, who she handed the original Frisbee to.

"And don't forget it," Amelia winked. "Put it away for now, the bell's about to ring."

They obeyed fervently, and thanked her just as fervently, before scurrying off to class at the sound of the bell. Leanne and Amelia parted ways, as Amelia began to trek to Divination (a useless but entertaining class, in her opinion), and decided to go and stop by Filch before class.


	3. The Tournament Begins

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To everyone's relief, Halloween came rather quickly, which meant the Triwizard Tournament had arrived, as had the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Those from Beauxbatons came in in a grand carriage pulled by huge, winged palomino horses, which was quite the spectacle. All the Hogwarts students watched in awe as it soared over the grounds majestically, until landing. A boy emerged, wearing pale blue robes, and fumbled about for a second, falling into a clumsy bow, and unfolded a set of golden stairs, and leapt backwards.

As soon as he did so, the most enormous woman that Amelia had ever seen from her life emerged from the carriage. Her shoe had to be the size of the head of an average child, at least, if not bigger. Though enormous, she was still rather beautiful, or at least, beautifully dressed in expensive black fabrics and dripping in opals. At once, Dumbledore began to applaud the woman, and soon the students of Hogwarts followed in suit.

The large woman's face relaxed into a gracious smile, and she walked towards Dumbledore with an extended hand that was glittering in opals. Dumbledore kissed it, and though he was a rather tall man, he didn't even have to bend over to do so.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dore," Madame Maxime replied, in a voice that would've been too deep for an ordinary-sized woman. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, thank you," Dumbledore nodded.

Madame Maxime nodded in reply, and then waved her enormous, bejeweled hand towards the carriage, and said, "My pupils!"

Students now emerged from the magnificent golden carriage, all wearing thin, but gleaming silk robes in a pale bluish-silver color. They were all shivering, unsurprisingly, and some had wrapped scarves around their heads or necks, though it was obvious that a simple scarf couldn't make up for their thin robes and lack of cloaks. They stood, still shivering, glancing up at Hogwarts apprehensively as they whispered amongst one another in French, and judging by their tones, they were not too impressed.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" inquired Madame Maxime.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime responded. "But, ze 'orses…-"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore informed her. "The moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"What did one of those horrible Skrewts finally get to him?" Herbert mumbled sarcastically under his breath. "From what I've heard, those things are really nasty…"

"They're…n-not that bad," Amelia replied, to Hagrid's defense. However, it didn't sound as convincing as she'd hoped, seeing her stutter just had to return while she said it.

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime said, looking doubtful. "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore assured her with a smile.

"Very well," bowed Madame Maxime. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses only drink single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore nodded, bowing in return.

Madame Maxime turned back to her students, instructed them to follow her, and started towards the castle. The mass of Hogwarts students split down the middle as their French guests made their way through, both sets of students looking each other over.

"Blimey, I can't say I'll mind that lot being here for the year," Herbert breathed. "Those French girls aren't hard on the eyes, are they?"

"They're alright," shrugged Cedric.

Rolling his eyes, Herbert replied, "I wouldn't expect you to admit it, anyway. You fancy that Ravenclaw, Cho Chang, too much for your own good, you know."

"I don't fancy Cho," Cedric said, very matter-of-factly. So matter-of-factly that it almost had Amelia convinced, though she knew better.

Then, Cedric looked out, somewhere vaguely in the distance and added, "Herb, you've got me on one point - I fancy someone, but it's not Cho Chang."

"You're a terrible liar, Ced," Leanne smirked. "Everyone knows the only Hufflepuff that can lie worth beans is Amelia."

"That's true," Cedric laughed. Looking to Amelia, he said, "You're probably the least Hufflepuff-like in the history of the House. With brains like yours, I'm still surprised you aren't in Ravenclaw."

"No, she'd be in Gryffindor, if anywhere else," Herbert argued. "She's sneaky and shameless, this one. Perfect Gryffindor."

"Actually, I'm a Hufflepuff, and I believe the correct term there would be Prefect, dearest Herb," Amelia replied slyly. "And I'm proud to be a Hufflepuff, so come off it, all of you."

"Fine, fine," Cedric agreed, always the mediator. "Besides, I do believe that strange noise means our Durmstrang guests are going to be here in a moment…"

"Blimey, they're coming from the lake!" Herbert exclaimed.

And for once, Herbert was actually correct, for when the rest of the gang and Hogwarts students looked to the lake, a great ship was emerging from the center of the water. It rose from the water magnificently, but in a different way than the way that the Beauxbatons' carriage was magnificent. It revealed itself, fully emerged from the lake, shimmering portholes, a grand flag flying from the mast bearing the Durmstrang coat of arms, and soon enough, someone threw an enormous anchor off into the waters.

People began to emerge from the portholes of the ship, the majority of them stocky, beefy young men with the hardened look that one would expect from a Durmstrang student. However, as they walked closer, the Hogwarts students could see that the Durmstrang students looked so bulky in large part due to their great, thick school robes, which were crafted out of some kind of mangy fur. This differed from the smooth, silky, sleek and silver cloaks and robes of the man at the front of all the others, who was presumably their headmaster.

"Dumbledore!" called the presumable headmaster. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.

Once the man called Karkaroff stepped into the light of the front stairs, Amelia noticed his sleek goatee, which ended in a quite impressive curl. She wondered how many products he had to use every morning to get it to stay like that; it seemed quite stuck in place.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff mused. He was smiling with his yellow-stained teeth, but not at all with his eyes. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth, you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

A boy pushed his way out of the crowd, one who looked particularly…greasy, with a hooked nose and thick, dark eyebrows. As the boy walked by, countless jaws dropped, and countless gossip-filled whispers erupted.

"By Godric, I don't believe it!" Herbert mumbled, though he could barely contain himself. "It's Viktor Krum!"

"You're right," Leanne breathed in awe. "It's really him."

"Viktor Krum…?" Amelia inquired, looking to Cedric.

With a slightly amused smile, Cedric informed her, "Best Seeker in the world, and still in school, apparently. Put on quite a show at the World Cup, though Bulgaria still went down to Ireland…awfully exciting game, and awfully great Seeker…"

Once everyone was back inside the Great Hall - Beauxbatons students with Ravenclaw, Durmstrang with Slytherin - the whispering had not died down. And, the Beauxbatons students still didn't look happy about being at Hogwarts. They didn't even look happy about the feast, which was the best one yet, by any Hogwarts student's recollection.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket…just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"Godric, I do wish I was seventeen," Herbert muttered, as he, Cedric, Leanne and Amelia bolted for the Entrance Hall, accompanied by a gaggle of other Hufflepuff students. "No worries though, it'd be fantastic if you won, Ced. Add more glory to the Diggory family name and the Hufflepuff house, eh?"

"Herb, I haven't even put my name in the bloody cup yet," Cedric chuckled, though it was clear he was extremely nervous.

"But think, Cho'll be awfully impressed by a champion," Leanne winked.

His cheeks were flushed, but he responded, "I'm not worried about what Cho'll be impressed by, Leanne."

"I already told you, you're a horrible liar, Ced," she grinned.

"Come off it," Amelia urged. "Just let him put his name in the bloody cup for now, and we can talk about his love affair with Chang later, eh?"

"You're just as bad as the rest of them, 'Melia," Cedric grinned, just barely, as they approached the blazing cup.

"That was low, Diggory," Amelia winked. Edging him on, she added, "Now go, put your name in the damn cup so we can all get on with our very exciting lives."

"Alright."

Every muscle in the gaggle of Hufflepuffs had stopped moving, every breath was hitched, and all the jaws dropped as Cedric approached the glowing Age Line around the cup. Even those not from Hufflepuff, who were sitting around watching, seemed to have the same reaction as the Hufflepuffs. It was like time had ceased, with Cedric standing there. He'd made it through the line, but still hadn't plucked up the courage to drop the parchment he'd scribbled his name on into the cup.

Just as Cedric raised his hand over the cup, a sudden rush of thoughts came into Amelia's mind.

_They all say this Tournament thing is extremely dangerous…wasn't Zacharias Smith going on about how people used to die, more than they survived? Even Dumbledore mentioned the death toll was so high, they had to discontinue the whole bloody thing…Cedric's a fine wizard, but is he this good? Good enough to survive this?_

_Don't get yourself worked up just yet_, Amelia thought, calming herself slightly. _He hasn't even put his name in the bloody cup yet_.


	4. Hexing High Jinks and Productive Plans

**Hello all! I'd like to start this chapter with my usual rounds of thanking those who have taken the time to fav/follow :) So a big thanks goes to: Ultimatefangurl1, alb33, turnthedoor, Beccax95, Words of the Anonymous and wildcrazything! Thanks so much!**

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The champions had been announced by the next morning. Durmstrang, Quidditch extraordinaire Viktor Krum. Beauxbatons, mystical beauty Fleur Delacour. From Hogwarts, dear Cedric Diggory.

And somehow, fourth year Gryffindor, Harry Potter.

Needless to say, that fact caused quite an uproar. However, all the adults assured them that there was no evident foul play on Potter or any other student's part, and that, because of the powerful, binding magic imbued onto the Cup, there was no way Potter could get out of competing.

And, because of this, the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor houses had bad feelings between them for the first time, possibly the first time ever.

Amelia, though, didn't want to be involved.

"Still reckon Potter cheated," remarked fourth year Justin Finch-Fletchley, as he and fellow fourth year Ernie Macmillan entered the Hufflepuff common room. "Couldn't be any other way."

"I wouldn't care half as much if it'd been anyone but Potter," Ernie replied. "Always gets the special treatment, eh? It's great he stopped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and all, but when does it stop?"

"I dunno," Justin sighed. "Snape's the only one that punishes him, and I bet he doesn't get the same punishment there, even from Snape."

Amelia, who was sitting in one of the coziest, most plush chairs in the room while reviewing ideas for new hexes she could create, couldn't help but to overhear, much to her distaste.

"Will you two shut up about Potter?" she shot from her seat, her eyes pure ice as she looked at the two of them. "You heard Dumbledore and the men from the Ministry, there isn't anything that can be done. Besides, you should be happy, Hogwarts has got twice the chance in the competition as the other two schools do."

"But Potter's a cheat," Justin whined.

"And you're better friends with Cedric than most of us are," Ernie argued. "You should be more upset about this. Do you want Cedric to lose or something?"

"Is that what I said, Macmillan?" she inquired, still icily so. "Of course I'd love Cedric to win, but I'd still be more than happy to see Potter with the cup. I'm in it for Hogwarts, and you two should be too. Be respectful, for Godric's sake!"

"But, Amelia, it's just that - …" Justin began to protest, though was interrupted by Amelia.

"If you two don't shut it, it'll be detention!" Amelia threatened.

Expression lowering, Ernie muttered, "You wouldn't…"

"I would," she assured them. "I would. Now, you two get out of here. I'm tired of listening to all this Hufflepuff-Gryffindor shit."

Glaring at her, though in slight disbelief, Ernie and Justin crawled through the round doorway that lead to the boys' dormitories, while Amelia settled herself down and decided to review her idea for hexes. She had a great one, the new and improved version of the hex she'd used on Warrington last year to make him grow a badger face. It was no longer a badger face, per say, it was supposed to turn into a various set of ugly creatures that was determined at random when used against a person. She reckoned it'd be good, and she'd have to try it out on herself (or some unsuspecting Slytherin while she was on patrol) before she forgot about it.

"You could've been a bit nicer, 'Melia," Leanne said, from where she sat at the table working on her Herbology report. "I know you're tired of the…er, drama, but you didn't have to threaten them with detention."

"I'm tired of being interrupted from my precious inventing with all this drama about the Tournament," Amelia replied, not bothering to look up. "Maybe they shouldn't even have held the bloody thing."

"Don't say that!" Leanne cried. "Maybe you don't understand, since you've never heard of it and all, but it'll be great once its up and running. It'll be so exciting, and wouldn't it be great to see Cedric win it for Hufflepuff?"

"Just fabulous," Amelia replied sarcastically. Then, she sighed, and said, "Sorry, didn't mean it like that. It's just that I'm tired of delegating petty fights between Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. I've got better things to do."

The two faded into silence, before being interrupted by the sound of the large grandfather clock in the corner striking nine. Amelia stared at it and sighed again, realizing what the time meant.

"Well, I better be off," she mumbled, stuffing her notebook into her robes as she rose from her seat. "Prefect duty calls. I'll see you, Leanne."

"See you, 'Melia," Leanne responded rather glumly.

Amelia exited the Hufflepuff common room, and entered the kitchen hallway amongst the barrels. She glanced down at her chest and saw her Prefect badge pinned there, gleaming in the dim candlelight. She figured that being a Prefect had its perks; she'd already gotten away with hexing a few Slytherins by threatening them with her Prefect status. It was all fun and games, but perhaps Leanne, Cedric and Herb were all right, that she wasn't a real Hufflepuff…she only hexed Slytherins though, and they deserved it, and it wasn't anything that would hurt or harm them, she only made their noses or toenails grow or made their faces a little more animal-like.

She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind, the thoughts of not being a true Hufflepuff. She was, wasn't she? She worked hard, even in the classes that didn't come so easy to her, like Arithmancy, which was a real struggle for her in the beginning. She was kind, always friendly (except maybe to Slytherins, or when she lost her temper, which happened to everyone), and loyal, never leaving her friends alone when they needed someone, and fair, always mediating fights amongst her friends. Those were all good, true Hufflepuff traits that she embodied.

Then again, she could be sneaky, and a bit of a rabble-rouser with all her pranking and new hobby of abusing her Prefect status. She was also a damn good liar, probably the best in all Hufflepuff history, which she wasn't sure if she should've been proud of or not.

Well, I'm in Hufflepuff now, Amelia sighed internally. And I'll prove to people I belong here, if I haven't done enough of that already.

She patrolled the corridors for awhile, to no avail. The only one out and about that night was Mrs. Norris, who glared at her as she passed Filch's office, almost as if the stupid cat knew about the replicated Fanged Frisbee in the drawer. Amelia looked back at the cat with just as much distaste, and wondered what Maggie Mae, who had a habit of disappearing for days at Hogwarts, was up to. She'd been gone for a week now, which was an oddly long amount of time for her, even to Amelia.

Bloody hell, I've lost my cat and my friends have all lost their heads, Amelia thought, brushing honey-colored hair behind her ears. Everyone but me hates the Gryffindors now, and even Cedric's letting this all go to his head, he was signing girls' school bags the other day, for Godric's sake, and I can't even get a moment with him without a bunch of simpering girls around him now.

For a moment, she contemplated sneaking out to Hogsmeade to get some firewhiskey at the Hog's Head, a place that didn't bother to check your age before serving you, ever. Then again, that might further cause speculation that she wasn't a fit Hufflepuff, so she decided against it.

"Still can't believe he did it," came a voice from around the corner.

Amelia froze in her tracks, wand at the ready. She was smirking, she figured hexing another Slytherin might make her feel a bit better. She wouldn't even mind hexing a Hufflepuff. She figured whoever it was was a Hufflepuff, judging by the fact that they were talking about Potter, something she was truly sick of.

"Must've been bloody brilliant," replied another. "We tried the Aging Potion and everything, and couldn't get in. Wish he'd tell us how he did it."

"Yeah, I'd love to know how he did it," the first voice responded. "If only he'd come clean and tell us, then I'd - …"

Seeing two sets of feet come around, Amelia pointed her wand (rather clumsily, which she regretted) and tried out her new hex, noverbally, at that, for the extra surprise effect. However, when she jumped out from where she stood against the wall, she didn't find a Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but instead two boys in Gryffindor robes, one sprouting elephant ears while the other was growing a trunk. It took her a moment to realize who she'd really ending up hexing - the Weasley twins.

"Godric, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed immediately. "Let me reverse that for you, here, I - …"

However, the two of them seemed completely fine with turning into part elephants, in fact, they seemed rather amused, staring at each other while chuckling.

"By Godric, don't you look handsome with a trunk," chuckled the twin sprouting the ears. "Quite the improvement, if I do say so myself."

"Well, you look loads better with those ears," the other twin joked in reply. "I always thought yours were a bit too small."

"I'm so sorry," Amelia mumbled, as they finally took a little break from laughing at each other.

"Not a problem at all," Elephant-Eared twin assured her, with a mischievous grin. "Actually, this is quite brilliant, you will have to tell us how you did this…"

"It's just some silly hex I invented to mess with the Slytherins out after curfew, that's all," Amelia admitted. "Really, I'll get rid of it for you…"

"Wait!" Trunked-Twin exclaimed. Leaning forward, he poked the Prefect badge pinned to her chest, and nearly shouted, "A Prefect! You're a Hufflepuff Prefect?"

"By some miracle, I suppose," she shrugged. "C'mon, I'm sorry, I'll reverse it for you…"

"Amy Honeywell, right?" asked the Elephant-Eared twin. "The one Cedric Diggory fancies, eh?"

"Er, Amelia Honeycutt, and Ced and I are just friends," she corrected. "Here, just let me fix your faces, it's driving me mad…"

So she did, though it was clearly to the twins' disappointment.

"Oh, c'mon, we were going to tell everyone back in Gryffindor that the elephant ears and trunk were one of our new inventions," whined the previously Elephant-Eared twin. "Ever since we got blamed for the whole Warrington becoming a bear incident last year, we've been trying to perfect an animal-face hex as good as that, but we've never gotten close…"

While the previously Elephant-Eared twin rambled on for a moment, the previously Trunked twin had a look of realization fall on his face, before exclaiming, "No bloody way! It was you, wasn't it? It was the day after that hideous Quidditch match, when Slytherin really pummeled Hufflepuff!"

Amelia smirked, but just as quickly let the smirk fade away as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd get back to my dorms if I were you two."

"Hear that, Fred?" previously Trunked twin asked excitedly. "We found the genius at last!"

"Finally!" exclaimed previously Elephant-Eared Fred. "You've got to tell us how you do it! You said you're still inventing, eh? You've got to let us in on your secrets, we're dying to know how you do it!"

"G'night," Amelia called from over her shoulder. "Nice meeting you two!"

"Wait!" they both called in unison, to no avail. She'd already disappeared around the corner, and back to the Hufflepuff common room.

She tapped the middle barrel, second from the bottom, to the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff,' as she always did, and she was allowed inside. She thanked Godric she'd gotten away from the two Weasleys - sure, she was flattered that they thought she was so brilliant, but she wasn't about to divulge her glorious pranking secrets to the biggest and most well-known Hogwarts pranksters and let them steal her secret glory.

She was also relieved to see that the Hufflepuff common room had died down a bit, most of the younger students had retreated to their dorms, along with most of the older students, except a select handful who were studying in candlelight. Most of them, though, looked half-asleep rather than indulged in their studies. Cedric was one of those few indulged in a textbook, as he sat in his pajamas by the fire, looking more wide-awake than Amelia had ever seen him look.

She cocked her head to the side a bit, as she looked at him. The past few days or weeks or so she'd been rather irritated with her old pal Ced, seeing that she couldn't get a moment with him where he wasn't surrounded by seemingly billions of students who'd suddenly become his best friends and most loyal fans. Sure, she was used to silly girls throwing themselves at him here and there, but he'd never had to sign their school bags for him, for Godric's sake. And though he was handsome, Cedric never indulged himself in such fanciful matters, he usually politely talked to the girls here and there and then parted ways with them. Now, however, Amelia had begun to think he was enjoying all the dumb attention.

At the moment, though, he didn't look like the big-headed idiot Amelia had thought he was turning into. He looked like a frightened kid, looking particularly childish in a way that Amelia never remembered him looking before. He looked like all the little ones back at the orphanage, when they heard they had to go to the dentist's. However, Amelia knew that he faced terrors much greater than a Muggle dentist.

"You alright there, Ced?" she inquired, taking a seat next to him on the loveseat.

Cedric didn't even notice her at first. After a moment, he looked up her with a nervous grin, a fearfully nervous one, and quickly looked back down to his book, replying, "I'm just perfect, 'Meel, thanks for asking."

"Really?" she asked, leaning back into the thick cushions. "Because you look positively awful."

"Ah…I'm just nervous, is all," Cedric replied in a way that was very out of character for him.

"Understandably," Amelia nodded. She got a glimpse of the cover of his book - The Most Important Spells You'll Ever Need to Know - and then asked, "Trying to brush up before the first task?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, just as nervously. "You're brilliant, have you got any ideas?"

"Well," Amelia sighed, trying to collect herself. "What're you up against? You have any idea of what it is?"

"Er, actually…yes…," Cedric replied, his tone lowering and quivering as he leaned forward. Now, his face was truly full of ear, as he whispered, "Dragons."

"Dragons?" Amelia repeated, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull.

"Yes, yes, but keep it down," Cedric mumbled. "Harry told me."

"Hm," Amelia sighed, pondering the question herself. Would Cedric really be able to take on a dragon? Those things are even worse than the Skrewts…

"Well," Amelia began again, drawing her breath as she tried to calm herself down. "There's always the Conjunctivitis Curse, dragon's are weakest in their eyes, y'know…I suppose…er, you could summon your broom, you're a fine flier on the Quidditch pitch, so there's that…Transfiguration, that's always an option, to transfigure something as a distraction…you could aim a sleeping charm at its eyes or mouth, that could always work…you could try that charm that makes ropes appear around something, and restrain it…"

"Thanks, that's all good and well," Cedric nodded feverishly. "That's enough, you can stop babbling."

"Alright," Amelia nodded, her cheeks flushing a bit.

Godric, Helga, Rowena and even you Salazar, protect him won't you?

Before she knew it, Cedric was hugging her, his arms thrown around her as if he was afraid she's slip into thin air right before his eyes. She didn't know what happened, what he was doing, but after she processed it, she was hugging him back.

"I think I'll head to bed," Cedric said hurriedly, upon releasing her, as he looked into her eyes. "Thanks, Amelia."

"Not a problem," she assured him, straightening out her robes as he stood. She watched him head for the boys' dorms, and then called, "Don't let the fame get to your head, Diggory!"

He paused, and grinned at her, a genuine Cedric grin, and replied, "Never, Honeycutt. As long as you don't let Prefect privileges get to your head."

She laughed, falling back into the loveseat, as she watched Cedric disappear into the round door into the boys' dormitory, and felt a sudden and sharp pain in her chest as she realized just what her best friend was up against.

And she knew she'd have to stop in and see Harry Potter in the morning.


	5. A Helping Hand for Harry

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The next morning, Amelia took a great, boiling hot shower in the Hufflepuff bathrooms in the girls' dormitories. She stood there for a good minute, letting the hot water nearly sear her skin off, and didn't even notice before skin turned a bright red color. It was then when she snapped to reality, and actually scrubbed herself down and washed her hair, and then emerged, and dressed in the Muggle clothes she reserved for the weekends - tattered blue jeans and raggy Hufflepuff yellow sweater with a black stripe across the middle, and her usual ratty old Chuck Taylors.

She fumbled clumsily back down the stairs to the dorm room she shared with Leanne, Phoebe and Heidi Macavoy, to find them all still sleeping soundly in their black and yellow clad four poster. She stared at them, and cocked her head, finding it extremely unusual that they had all slept in, when she was always the last one out of bed.

Shrugging, she balled her nightclothes up, and went to shove them back in her trunk, but in the process, and made quite a great noise, that caused the three other girls in the room to wake up in screams. Leanne actually seized her wand from her bedside table, ready to attack, though she looked rather confused and clumsy as she waved it around herself.

"What's wrong with you lot?" Amelia asked, recovering from a near heart-attack herself. "It's only me."

"Yeah, but you're never up at a reasonable time," Heidi breathed in defense. She grasped the clock on her night table for reference, and then said, "It's not even 6 o'clock in the morning, for Godric's sake, and you're already up and showered and dressed."

"Oh," Amelia sighed. She was shocked herself when Heidi said what time it was. "Just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"We see that," Leanne nodded, finally settling down.

"Oh no," Phoebe grumbled, patting about her bedsheets. "Did one of my rats get to you? I'm so sorry, Amelia…"

"No, none of your rats caused any trouble," Amelia said, thanking Godric they hadn't. "Er…well, I think I'll take a morning walk before breakfast, I've never seen this place so early."

Her roommates agreed sleepily, before collapsing back onto their pillows, and Amelia settled at an empty table, and quickly scribbled down a list of the same suggestions she'd given Cedric on a piece of parchment she then folded up and stuffed in the back pocket of her jeans. She was planning on giving it to Harry Potter. It was her mission to track him down and at least try to help him, whether he wanted it or not, she'd try. That was the Hufflepuff in her, she supposed, whatever tiny bit there was in her. He was only a fourth year anyways, he probably didn't have half the knowledge the others did, even with the help of his smart friend Hermione Granger.

As Amelia came out of the common room, she passed the kitchen door, where she found Maggie Mae, who was licking a can of tuna clean. Amelia grinned, glad to have figured out where the hell her cat has been for the past couple of months, and kneeled down on the floor, giving Maggie a nice pat on the head.

"There's my girl," Amelia grinned. She could always find comfort in animals. "Long time no see, eh?"

Maggie Mae purred, clearly enjoying the petting, and proceeded to follow Amelia down the hall, weaving between her heels as she went. It took the usually clumsy Amelia a bit of extra effort to try not to trip with a cat running between her feet, batting at her shoelaces, which caused the human girl to smirk down at her half-kneazle.

Amelia and Maggie Mae wasted the wee hours of the morning away making rounds around the Hogwarts grounds. However, Amelia didn't bother to throw any hexes on anyone, as she usually would've. She felt bad about accidently hexing the two Weasleys the previous night, so she was being careful and wasn't taking her chances, not wanting to accidently hex someone who didn't deserve it.

When the time came, Maggie Mae followed Amelia into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Entering the impressive room, which was now bubbling with activity and students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang alike, Amelia came to a halt. Cedric, in the center of a large group of adoring Hufflepuffs, waved to her, and she waved back, though she knew she had to go to the Gryffindor table before she was to go deal with Ced.

She headed towards Harry, who was sitting alone, surprisingly. His bushy-haired friend, Hermione Granger, was nowhere in sight, and his red-headed friend, the younger Weasley boy, was sitting quite a significant way down the table. She wondered why his friends weren't with him, or why he wasn't flushed with supporters as the other three were. Then again, the POTTER STINKS buttons that had been floating around the school might have some indication to why Harry looked so alone. Amelia wasn't a fan of those buttons - she'd begged people not to wear them, that they were in poor taste, all to no avail. She'd given up, even if she refused to wear on herself.

"Er, excuse me, Harry," Amelia cleared her throat as she approached the fourth year boy. "Can I have word?"

"Er, sure," he mumbled, clearly unsure about her as she sat opposite from him at the Gryffindor table, Maggie Mae leaping up next to her. "Amelia, right? You're friends with Cedric. Fred and George say you're a great prankster."

"Yeah, that's me," she nodded. Trying to be discreet, she slid the folded piece of parchment across the table to Harry, and whispered, "A list of ideas I gave Ced to help with the first task. For you."

Harry looked at her with some kind of shock, as if he really couldn't believe that she'd help him. Carefully, he unfolded the parchment, and looked over it, and then looked back up to Amelia, still in shock, if anything, more so now.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. "Thank you so much…just…why are you helping me?"

"I want to see a Hogwarts champion," Amelia winked.

He grinned, only slightly, before asking, "But you're friends with Cedric, why're you helping me?"

"I told you, I want a Hogwarts champion," Amelia repeated. "Either you or Cedric. And besides, I don't mean this in a bad way, but you're a fourth year…I thought you might need a hand, even with your genius of a friend, Hermione Granger. And it's not like Fleur and Krum aren't playing without help."

"True," Harry sighed, chuckling nervously a bit. "Well, er…thanks a lot, again."

"No problem," she assured him, as she rose, taking Maggie Mae in her arms.

She was just about to turn her back to leave, but before she did, Harry asked, "Wait, Amelia, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," she joked, turning back around. "Go ahead."

"Is…is Cedric nervous?" Harry asked, looking as though he was about to vomit himself.

Amelia looked to Fleur Delacour, amongst the Ravenclaws, Viktor Krum amongst his buddies and the Slytherins, and Ced, back with the Hufflepuffs, and then to Harry, who was alone amongst his own house of Gryffindor, and she nodded.

"Yeah, Harry," she told him. "Ced's nervous, Fleur's nervous, Krum's nervous, you're all nervous. It's understandable."

He nodded again, and looked back down to his plate of scrambled eggs.

Before she left, Amelia told him, "And really, Harry, I mean it - if you need help, I'm here. Don't be afraid to ask me, I won't hex you or anything."

"Thanks," Harry repeated, looking genuinely grateful.

"Good luck," Amelia bid. "I'll be rooting for you on the 24th."

"Thanks."

Something about helping Harry out made Amelia feel immensely better in some way, but at the same time, added to the weight in her gut. Harry was a good kid, he was, really. Ced was her best friend, but Harry was a good kid…now she had the two of them to worry about, and she had two people she had to do everything in her power to not let get killed in this insane wizarding contest.

"Hey, guys, would you mind clearing out for a moment?" Cedric requested, as Amelia arrived at the Hufflepuff table. "I want a word with Amelia, alone, just for a minute."

Immediately, those who had assembled around Cedric seemed to vanish to the other end of the table, or various other places in the Hall so that Cedric could get his moment alone with Amelia.

"How's Potter?" Cedric inquired, pouring Amelia some tea as she sat down next to him.

"Thanks," Amelia said. She accepted the tea, as Maggie Mae curled up, purring, in her lap. "And he's just as nervous as you are, Ced. Fleur and Krum are in the same boat of nerves as well; you're not alone."

"I know that's supposed to make me feel better, but somehow, it doesn't," Cedric replied, aiming for dry humour. "Thanks for trying, though, 'Melia. You're the only one that hasn't lost their head lately. Even Leanne and Herb are all caught up in getting me to win this…I mean, that's the goal and all, but they're not nearly as, er, understanding as you. Anyway, like I said, I'm glad you haven't lost it."

"Trust me, I have," she said, her cheeks full of buttered toast. "I mean, I'm not risking my life, but you are, and I'm worried about you and Harry, even Fleur and Krum. I'm not rooting for them, but I don't wanna see them get hurt or maimed or anything…"

She and Cedric glanced at each other, before shooting their eyes back to their plates. They both knew what she wanted to say, but couldn't - the fact that they could even die from this tournament.  
"How're things with Cho?" Amelia asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Have you gotten a chance to snog her yet, with all your prefect and champion duties?"

Cedric rolled his eyes as he poked at his eggs. "I have not snogged Cho Chang, nor do I plan on doing so."

"You're a horrible liar, Ced," Amelia smirked in a sing-song voice. "I'm the only Hufflepuff who can lie, so don't try that on me."

"I'm not lying," Cedric told her, though his flushed cheeks indicated otherwise. "She's nice and all, but I have other things on my mind."

"You're horrible," Amelia joked, elbowing him in the side. "And if you're not going to finish your bacon, I will."

She grabbed the bacon off his plate and immediately put it into her mouth, as he started in on her, saying, "Word around the halls is that you hexed both Fred and George Weasley last night. Twins, Amelia, we're getting quite ambitious aren't we? Can't you pick one to snog?"

"Oh, please," she groaned, rolling her eyes with a mouthful of bacon. "I was doing my prefect rounds, and I was sick and tired of dealing with the whole school trash-talking Harry, and I was looking for a couple of ugly Slytherin blokes to hex to blow off some steam. And the Weasleys were the first people I ran into, I wasn't even paying attention. For Godric's sake, Cedric."

"Don't talk to me about Cho, and I won't talk to you about the Weasleys," Cedric bargained with a playful grin.

Rolling her eyes again, Amelia said, "You and Cho actually have something. I hexed the Weasleys and talked to them once. You and Cho only think about snogging each other."

"But Fred and George are such good pranksters," Cedric continued. "You'd do fine with either one, or perhaps you'll be ambitious again and go for both? Imagine what troublemakers your children would be…"

"You're an arse, Diggory," Amelia laughed, elbowing him again.

"As are you, Honeycutt," Cedric winked.


	6. Interrupted

**Decided to be ambitious and post two chapters today!**

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* * *

"Wow, this is really brilliant," Hermione said, as she looked over the piece of parchment Amelia had given Harry. "These are really great ideas, Harry. I think the summoning spell for the broom would be really good for you, you're such a good flier…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, nodding. "Too bad I'm not good at Summoning Charms."

"That's an easy fix, Harry, I can teach you that. You've got time to learn before the 24th," Hermione assured him. "You thanked Amelia, though, didn't you? She really didn't have to do this, it was so nice of her…"

"I know," nodded Harry. "And I did."

Before Hermione could reply, Fred and George burst seemingly out of nowhere, hopping down on either side of Harry, each clapping a hand on one of his shoulders as they did so.

"Preparing for the task, huh, Harry?" George inquired with a slight smirk.

"You'd better be," Fred piped up. "We're counting on you to win, so all the Hufflepuffs will shut up about Pretty Boy Diggory."

"You don't have to be rude about it," Hermione grumbled. "Just because you want Harry to win doesn't mean you have to root against Cedric."

"Excuse me, Hermione, but have you seen the Potter Stinks buttons?" Fred started in. "All the Hufflepuffs and the rest of the school is wearing them, it's not like we're wearing Diggory Stinks buttons…write that down, though, George, we might have to make those."

"No you won't!" Hermione shot back. "You'd only be adding to all the conflict between the Houses, which we don't need…what are you two doing in the library, anyway? I didn't even know you two knew where it was."

"You think so little of us, don't you, Granger?" George asked with a smirk.

"But no, we don't frequent this place like you do," chirped Fred. "We're here on a specific mission of sorts today, and we happened to run into you two."

"Mission…?" Harry inquired, now smiling. Fred and George always lightened things up.

"Yes, mission, Harry," George nodded. "We're on a mission to find the best prankster in Hogwarts whose name isn't Fred or George and ask her to go into business with us."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though Harry looked rather interested, and she asked, "You can't tell me there's someone else in this school who is just as much of a troublemaker as the two of you."

"That's where you're wrong, for once," Fred said. "Remember last year, when Warrington started morphing into even more of a beast, with the whiskers and all?"

Harry and Hermione nodded, still unsure of where this was going.

"And we told you over the summer it wasn't us, though we accepted the detention because it was so brilliant?" George asked. Again, Harry and Hermione nodded, and then George continued, "Well, we've finally found the real brain behind it all - Amelia Honeycutt, the Hufflepuff girl."

"No," Hermione stated, crossing her arms. "She's a prefect. How could a prefect get away with all that?"

"That's why we're really impressed," Fred said. "Because she does. Anyway, we saw her talking to you this morning, Harry, so do you have any idea where we could find her?"

"Er, no, sorry," Harry replied honestly.

"You're wrong about Amelia," Hermione repeated, looking completely sure of herself.

"We are not," George told her.

"Well, whatever," Hermione grumbled. "And has it ever occurred to you that she may be in her common room, and that you would not be able to get in there?"

"And why couldn't we get into the Hufflepuff common room?" Fred asked, looking interested, but only in a sarcastic way.

"Because the Hufflepuff common room is the only one that's never been seen by someone outside of Hufflepuff," Hermione explained. "Really, if you ever read Hogwarts, a History, you'd know that. And, the Hufflepuff common room is the only common room in Hogwarts with anti-intruder devices - if you try and fail, you'll get doused in vinegar."

"You must be the life of the party," Fred said dryly. Rising to his feet, he beckoned, "C'mon, Gred. We've got to continue our hunt for Honeycutt, and we're not going to get any of her brilliance from sitting here."

"Hunt for Honeycutt, I quite like that, Forge," George grinned as he stood with his twin.

"See you later," the both of them bid in unison.

"And you better win on the 24th, Harry," George added.

"Yeah, beat Pretty Boy Diggory for us, won't you?" Fred winked.

Watching them go, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Always causing trouble," she muttered. Looking back to Harry, she began, "Now, Summoning Spells…"

* * *

Meanwhile, a far way away on the Hogwarts grounds, on the edge of the forest by the Black Lake, were Cedric, Amelia and Maggie Mae. Cedric was pacing back and forth on the edge of the water. Maggie Mae was lying in the tall grass, her tail swishing as she looked up into the tree, where a couple of pixies flew about, teasing the half-kneazle. Amelia sat at the base of the tree, Indian-style, watching Cedric as she twirled her wand around in her hands.

They'd been at this for what felt like hours, since they'd come out to one of the most remote spots on the campus where they hoped not to be bothered, so Amelia could help Cedric practice for the First Task. He'd been practicing Transfiguring on almost everyone rock that they could find, and when they ran out, Amelia had Cedric summon more in, so he got more practice with that, too. She even had him practice the Conjunctivitis Curse on her - which he refused to do for the longest time, until she threatened to stab her own wand through her eye (and nearly did), but at least she knew the reversal spell. She also made Cedric practice the Sleeping Spell on her, only to be shaken awake by him moments later.

Needless to say, she was just as exhausted as he was. She felt like she hadn't slept for days, her eyes were still itchy, and her shoulders had been shaken more than they ever should have, even if that wasn't Cedric's intent at all.

Amelia had also made Cedric try to attempt the spells on Maggie, seeing that he'd have to face a magical dragon, not a human, but the half-kneazle wasn't so keen on playing along and kept dodging behind rocks, so much so that they just decided to give up on having her help.

"Ced, stop pacing, you'll wear out the soles of your shoes," Amelia joked dryly.

He grinned at her, replying, "That's the top of my list of concerns, 'Melia. My shoes, yes, most definitely."

She grinned back at him, the best she could. "Why don't you sit down for a minute? I think you deserve a little break."

"Alright," he agreed, without even thinking about it.

Cedric collapsed down beside her, letting out a long, tired sigh. Seeing the immediate threat of being hexed was over, Maggie Mae stalked over, and leapt into Amelia's lap. She kneaded at her owner's jeans with her paws, making sure everything was good and comfortable, before curling up and releasing a good, content purr.

After a moment, Cedric leaned forward, looking over Amelia's face with obvious concern, and then suggested, "Maybe we should go see Madame Pomfrey. Your eyes still don't look quite right…they're all red…"

"I promise you, I'm fine," she assured him with the brightest smile she could muster.

"Alright," Cedric responded, leaning back. Then, he swallowed, and looked to her again, and said, "Thanks for everything, Amelia. Really. You're kind of the best."

Smirking, Amelia simply said, "Don't you forget it, Diggory."

"I mean it," he said seriously, looking into her big, brown doe-eyes with his striking gray ones. "I mean it, you're my best friend, Amelia, and I don't know what I'd do in this Tournament without you."

Still with a smirk, she repeated, "Don't forget it, Diggory. And tell people to stop wearing those Potter Stinks buttons, no one listens to me."

"I've been trying," he told her. "Everyone's just too excited for a Hufflepuff chance at glory, y'know…"

"And Hufflepuff and the name of Cedric Diggory will go down in history as glorious," Amelia winked. She offered him a pinky, for a pinky promise, which he accepted. "I promise you that, win or lose."

"Thanks," Cedric smiled. His smile was small, but the emotions behind it were huge.

Suddenly, two red-haired prankster twins appeared seemingly out of thin air, interrupting Amelia and Cedric.

"Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds," greeted Fred Weasley, though Amelia was the one who could tell, not Cedric.

"But would you be kind enough to have a word with us, Amelia?" asked George Weasley.

"We promise we won't be long," Fred assured her. With a wink, he added, "You'll be back to snogging in no time."

"Oh, no, we weren't…," Cedric stumbled. Amelia rolled her eyes; he'd been hanging out with her too much. "Amelia's just helping me, er, practice for the First Task."

"Hey, whatever you kids are calling it nowadays, it's fine by us," George said playfully.

"Merlin's beard, we're just friends," Amelia said. With a grin back at Cedric, she whispered, "Everyone knows you fancy Cho Chang," which caused his cheeks to flare up.

"Well," Amelia sighed, as she rose, with Maggie Mae in her arms. Looking to Fred and George, she asked, "What do you two want with me?"

"Walk with us for a minute, Honeycutt, and we'll explain," Fred replied, as he and George both droppe a guiding hand on either one of her shoulders.

They walked quite some distance down the shore of the lake before Amelia became rather perturbed, and asked, "Are you actually going to ask me something or are you trying to find a good place to murder me in secret?"

"Ah, she's onto us, Fred," George laughed. Seeing that he hadn't amused Amelia, he cleared his throat, and then began, "No, but really…alright, well, we wanted to talk to you about, er, going into business with us."

"And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" she inquired, as Maggie Mae swatted the twins' hands off her owner.

"That cat's almost as evil as Crookshanks," Fred muttered, moving his hand fast so that it wouldn't be sliced. Then, he added, "That, love, means exactly what it sounds like its supposed to mean."

"Since we found out you're the one behind the brilliant Warrington debacle last year, we've been asking around with those few Hufflepuffs who're still decent enough to talk to us," George piped up. "And we've found out you're the brains behind a lot of the brilliant pranks we've been blamed for. Your friend Leanne says you spend more time inventing 'useless' things as she put it, than doing anything else."

Lowering his voice a bit, Fred added, "And we're starting up a little joke product business. We want to get your brilliant brains in on the operation."

"Alright, er, whatever," Amelia grumbled. She fiddled around, pulling the small leather notebook from her pocket that had her initials - AFH - engraved on the front. She thrust it at George, and said, "There. There's a ton of ideas, do with them what you will. You're welcome. See you."

With that, she surprised the both of them again, by whipping around on her heels and heading back for Cedric. They both watched her go, rather confused, until Fred ripped the notebook from George, and started flipping through.

"Blimey," Fred sighed, glancing up in the direction Amelia had walked in. "I think I'm in love."


	7. Flames and Vinegar

**Hello guys! **

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* * *

"Hello, Amelia," greeted Cho Chang, as she sat next to the honey-haired Hufflepuff in Charms. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thanks," Amelia nodded. She shoved the gum back into her mouth, the gum she'd been winding around her fingers in boredom while waiting for class to begin. "And yourself, Cho?"

"Oh, I'm doing well, thanks," said Cho, as she pulled out her textbook. "Er…how's Cedric doing? Nervous for the First Task?"

"Everyone is," Amelia replied. "Not just the champions, I mean everyone."

"Well, er…Cedric's doing alright, isn't he?" Cho persisted.

Chuckling slightly, Amelia nodded, assuring her, "Yes, Cho, he's alright. And yes, Cho, he does fancy you, very much. I wouldn't be concerned."

"You're sure?" Cho kept on, though there was definite change in her tone. "Because the two of you spend an awful lot of time together. There've been rumours floating around about what you two were really doing down by the lake the other day."

Amelia's eyes nearly popped out of her skull; she couldn't believe that Cho was actually becoming this jealous when there was nothing to be jealous about whatsoever.

"We're just friends, you know that," Amelia replied, trying to calm her down. "There's no need to be jealous…didn't Cedric just take you out last weekend, to Hogsmeade?"

"Well…yes," Cho admitted. "But he talked about you half of the time. What's with you this year, Amelia? Are you using love potions on all the boys in Hogwarts? First Cedric, but now I hear the Weasley twins are completely enamored with you too - …"

Cutting her off, Amelia grumbled, "Oh my Godric. Are you really this insecure, Cho? You're pretty, smart and popular, and Cedric undoubtedly fancies you, not me. He's like my brother, for Helga's sake, I could never…"

"Well, he doesn't exactly talk about you like a sister," Cho snapped, grabbing her books in a hurry as she leapt from her seat.

Amelia cocked her head as she watched Cho go, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched Cho settle next to her fellow Ravenclaw friend, Marietta Edgecombe. The two Ravenclaw girls stared back at the Hufflepuff girl, who was now alone, only to be saved but a completely oblivious Leanne, who arrived late with her hair a mess.

Seeing how Amelia was holding back laughter at her appearance, Leanne grinned herself, and then said, "I stayed behind in Herbology, trying to help Professor Sprout prepare the mandrakes for the second years. Not one of my best ideas, one got all tangled up in my hair."

"I see," Amelia chuckled.

Settling in her seat, Leanne glanced around, to see Cho and Marietta glaring at Amelia and whispering, and asked, "What's their problem?"

Rolling her eyes, Amelia informed her, "Cho thinks I'm trying to steal Cedric away from her."

"That's ridiculous!" Leanne said in defense of her friend. "You guys are like siblings, I mean…"

"That's what I said," Amelia nodded.

"Alright, alright, settle down, please!" called Flitwick, from atop the pile of books atop his desk, as he waved his wand about for dramatic effect. Once the room quieted, he cleared his throat, and continued, "Alright, today we will be learning the Fire Charm! The incantation for which is simply Incendio."

When he said the incantation, the large candle upon his desk was lit, inspiring awe from some of the more easily-impressed students in class. Flitwick bowed a bit, before waving his wand again, which caused candles to pop up on all the desks for each of the students, along with candle snuffers.

"Now," Flitwick continued. "Practice the charm on your candles, and put it out with the snuffer. Please use extreme caution; I don't want any burn victims, okay? Off you go!"

Incendio, Amelia thought, always preferring and being better at the non-verbal approach. The candle before her shot up in flames. Leanne was rather amazed at her friend's non-verbal skills, though she saw her do these things nearly everyday.

The class went on like this for some time, setting the candles aflame, snuffing them out. It became rather boring, until Cho decided to have a bit of fun by setting the sleeve of Amelia's robe on fire.

"Whoops, sorry," Cho snickered from a few rows behind.

Amelia rolled her eyes, as Flitwick began his approach from the other side of the room, calling, "Just stay calm, Miss Honeycutt! I'm on my way! Miss Chang - five points from Ravenclaw, I saw that wasn't an accident!"

Cho sank in her seat a bit, as Amelia simply pulled her wand, summoning a stream of water to put out the fire. She then used the Mending Charm on her singed robes, so that it looked completely normal again.

"Miss Honeycutt!" Flitwick beamed, thoroughly impressed, as he arrived. "A non-verbal Aguamenti and Mending Charm, most impressive! We don't even learn Augamenti until sixth year! Twenty points to Hufflepuff, ten for each of those brilliant examples of non-verbal magic, which most adult wizards struggle with!"

"Thank you, Professor," Amelia nodded humbly, before simply going back to setting her candle on fire.

Cho was not happy, to say the least.

* * *

"Well, can you tell her that we're only friends, and then never bring me up again?" Amelia pleaded, frustrated, as she made her way down the hall. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her hair was held in a haphazardously done bun with her wand at the base of her neck.

"I told you, I'm sorry she did that," Cedric repeated, attempting to keep up with her. "Are you sure it wasn't an accident, though?"

"Do I look like a bloody candle to you, Ced?" she shot. "She tried to burn me to ashes!"

"Sorry," Cedric sighed. "I'll talk to her."

"Just tell her we're friends and never mention me to her, promise," Amelia said.

"Promise," Cedric agreed quickly, seeing the fire - no pun intended - in her eyes. "But I thought you two were friends?"

"So did I," Amelia muttered. "Apparently not."

Amelia and Cedric turned the corner by the kitchen, coming into the pile of barrels that guarded the Hufflepuff common rooms. It was Amelia who tapped the correct barrel, allowing herself and Cedric to go inside, where the disappeared from view. However, just as they disappeared, two red-headed boys came into view, sneaking out from behind the tapestry they'd used to hide.

"Well, that doesn't look so hard, does it, Gred?" inquired Fred, smirking at his brother.

"Not at all, Forge," George winked. "Would you like to have a go?"

"Of course."

The two stepped forward to the great pile of barrels, which they'd seen frequently but never knew concealed the Hufflepuff common room and dorms, and Fred reached his hand out towards one of them.

"Seven, I reckon?" Fred asked. "Lucky number."

"Sounds logical," George nodded.

Then, Fred tapped on a barrel, the incorrect one, and incorrectly tapped the barrel seven times, instead of five times and to the tune of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. Fred stepped back a bit, towards George, and the two waited. As the barrels began to quiver oh so slightly, they grinned at each other, sharing a happy high five, as the walked close to the barrels again.

Things didn't go as planned, though, because within seconds all of the barrels exploded, and Fred and George found themselves thoroughly doused in vinegar.

"Wicked," they both chuckled at each other, surprisingly amused.

Before they knew it, the barrels began to rumble again, and then Cedric, Amelia, and half of the rest of the Hufflepuffs in the school erupted from the common rooms.

"What do you think you're doing?!" erupted one of the Prefect boys, shoving his way to the front of the crowd.

"Trying to get into the Hufflepuff common room," George answered simply.

"Are you that thick, that you couldn't figure that out?" Fred tacked on.

"Do you two know the consequences of trying to break into another house's common room?" the same boy continued, livid. "What reason could you possibly have to do this anyway?"

"We wanted to talk to Honeycutt, over there," Fred answered, nodding in her direction. She looked nearly as livid as the angry Prefect in the front, except she looked a lot cuter being livid than he did.

"We thought this would be the place to find her," George added. "We have quite a bit of business to talk to her about."

Before any of the students could speak again, McGonagall's voice rang down the hall, yelling, "You two! Do you have any idea about the consequences of trying to sneak into the common room of a house that you do not belong to?!"

"We were just trying to talk business with Honeycutt, Professor," Fred informed the woman.

McGonagall's gaze shifted over to Amelia, who stood, shell-shocked beside Cedric.

"Miss Honeycutt," McGonagall started. "I am shocked and a bit disappointed to hear that you were a part of this. Detention, all three of you, tomorrow."

Now, as Amelia was staring daggers into both Fred and George, McGonagall did a simple wave of her wand to clean up all the vinegar.

"Tomorrow, Miss Honeycutt," McGonagall repeated, nodding towards the girl. Looking back to Fred and George, she directed, "You two, Weasleys, with me. Back to Gryffindor Tower for you."


	8. Detention and Dungbombs

**Hello again friends! I think I'll just start updating whenever I have new content for you folks, if that's alright. **

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* * *

After a restless dinner in the Great Hall the next evening, Amelia reported to Greenhouse #3, where she and the troublemaking twins would be serving their detentions with Professor Sprout. Since she was the first one to arrive, she was the first one that Sprout put to work, pruning some sort of dreadful kind of plant with only Muggle gardening shears, a strictly no-magic task.

Sighing, Amelia got to work, quickly realizing that this would be one of the most boring things she'd ever done in her life.

"Heads up, Honeycutt!" boomed a voice, as a pair of garden shears went flying over Amelia's head. "Ah, nice catch, Georgy!"

"Y'know, our dad would love to have a pair of these," George remarked, standing on the right side of Amelia as he fiddled with the shears. "He loves all this Muggle stuff. He's kind of a freak, in that way. Loves it so much he hasn't changed jobs in years, always working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office down at the Ministry…what do your parents do, Honeycutt? I suppose they must be astounding people, having a genius like you."

While glaring at him from the corner of her eyes, Amelia asked, "Are you really trying to befriend me after landing me a detention when I haven't done anything?"

"Ah, it's not that bad," Fred assured her. "Don't tell me it's your first detention."

Amelia now directed her glare at Fred, who snickered, as George piped up, "She's a Prefect, Fred, you think she became one by being a regular in detention like us?"

There was a silence for a moment, before Fred cleared his throat, and then chimed, "Anyway, Honeycutt, the answer to your earlier question is yes, we indeed are trying to befriend you. If we're to go into business with you, we've got to at least be a little friendly, eh?"

"I gave you the notebook already, what more do you want?" Amelia questioned.

"We want to get to know you," George repeated. "Anyone with a mind like yours, that invents all those crazy hexes and potions has got to be a friend of ours…so, tell us about yourself, Honeycutt, and start at the beginning - what're your parents like?"

Lowering her head, Amelia cleared her throat, before meekly responded, "I dunno. Never met them; just Muggles, I suppose."

Looking rather baffled, George asked, "So who takes care of you, then, while you aren't in Hogwarts?"

"I, er…I live in a home, y'know, for kids that don't have parents," she explained under her breath. "Or with Ced and his family, during the holidays sometimes."

"You follow Quidditch?" George then asked, clearly trying to pick up the mood a bit.

"Not at all," Amelia grinned slightly, shaking her head. "I barely understand Muggle sports, I'll never be able to keep up with Quidditch."

"But you're always at the matches," Fred said.

Amelia opened her mouth to say she went to support Ced and Herb, but instead asked, "And why do you know that, Fred?"

Instead of answering her, both twins, at the same time, countered, "You can tell us apart?"

"Well…yeah," she replied, as if they knew. "Fred had the ears and George had the trunk. You're Fred and you're George."

"Blimey," George remarked. "Our own mum can't even do that."

Amelia shrugged, as she looked back to the hideous plant that only she seemed to be trimming.

"So, er…what's Hufflepuff like?" Fred asked.

"What's Hufflepuff like?" Amelia repeated, chuckling. "What's Gryffindor like?"

"Point taken," Fred grinned. "How many pranks of yours have we been blamed for, besides the Warrington incident?"

"Probably all the ones you took the fall for, but didn't do," she sighed. "I would've apologized, but neither of you two ever seemed like you cared."

"Well of course we didn't, they made us look brilliant," George chimed in. "Speaking of brilliance, are you in with us on this business endeavor or not?"

"You never really explained what this business endeavor is," she replied, chopping into a particularly stubborn branch.

"We're opening a joke shop, of sorts," Fred explained.

"Right now, it's not much," George added. "We're in the stages of refining our products, and we're waiting on some money that's owed to us."

"What're you waiting for, with the money?" she inquired, focusing on the task Sprout had given them.

"Well, y'know Bagman, the sports bloke from the Ministry?" George asked. When she nodded, he continued, "We made a bet with him at the World Cup over the summer, about who'd win it. We bet all our money, and we ended up winning, but the git paid us in leprechaun gold, so we've been trying to get the real money out of him ever since."

"Leprechaun gold?" Amelia asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's cheap."

"You're telling us," Fred agreed. "So anyway, we figured, with a brain like yours on board, we could really expand our line of products, and you could probably do all the accounting for us and whatnot, we've heard you take Arithmancy…we would ask Hermione Granger, but she doesn't exactly have the spirit for it."

"So, what do you say?" George then asked. "Weasley, Weasley and Honeycutt?"

And, at that point, Amelia figured, why not?

* * *

"Two butterbeers, please."

Madame Rosmerta nodded, as she walked away from Cedric and Amelia's table to get their order.

It was a chilly November day, and less than a week away from the First Task. Needless to say, Cedric was feeling the crunch. He'd become increasingly anxious, which was understandable, and Harry Potter was feeling the same way, from what Amelia could observe. She didn't have a read on Fleur, who was always surrounded by a gaggle of Beauxbatons students and admirers from Hogwarts and Durmstrang as well. Krum seemed rather indifferent, still inhabiting the library, when Karkaroff wasn't fretting over him.

"I told you not to pay for me, Ced," Amelia protested. "I didn't want a butterbeer anyways."

Rolling his eyes, Cedric responded, "Really, I can buy you a butterbeer, Amelia. After all you've done for me, helping me prepare, it's the least I can do."

"But I don't like you paying for me," she continued stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Two Sickles isn't much," he assured her. "Really."

She sighed again, in the stubborn way that very much represented her personality, as she uncrossed her arms and went to picking the fuzzballs off the pumpkin-colored sweater she wore beneath a fraying denim jacket.

"Here you go, dears," Madame Rosmerta said, setting the two bottles down before them.

"Thanks," the two students replied in unison.

Cedric opened Amelia's bottle for her as well, before sliding it across the tabletop to her. She thanked him, and held onto the bottle for a stubborn moment, before breaking down and finally having a sip.

"I didn't think you wanted a butterbeer?" Cedric chuckled.

Amelia set the bottle back down on the table, cleared her throat, and changed the subject, asking, "How're things with Cho since she tried to burn me to a crisp?"

Cedric's demeanor changed; he was now the one sighing. He shrugged, and answered, "I don't know, fine, I guess. It's just been hard keeping up with her and schoolwork, on top of all the Tournament stuff I have now."

"Understandable," Amelia nodded. "But, y'know, you could've asked her to come to Hogsmeade with you today, instead of me."

"You know, this might shock you, but I actually wasn't in the mood to be snogged senseless in Madam Puddifoot's today," Cedric informed her. "I think I need to clear my head before the First Task."

Amelia nodded again, before excusing herself, saying, "I'll be right back, I just have to run to the loo."

"Sure," Cedric replied.

Standing up at the table, she turned, to be immediately faced by the infamous Daily Prophet reported, Rita Skeeter, who sat at the table directly behind them with her photographer. Amelia's eyes bulged, knowing that Skeeter's smirk couldn't mean anything good, especially after the articles she'd been writing about Harry Potter.

"What're you doing?" Amelia asked, eyeing Rita Skeeter suspiciously.

"Why, I'm only gathering information for my next report on the Triwizard Tournament, dear," Skeeter replied, her voice full of false sweetness. "Next headline: Amelia Honeycutt, Hufflepuff Prefect, tries to steal the hearts of both Cedric Diggory and our young champion, Harry Potter."

"That's not at all what I'm doing, I'm only trying to help them," Amelia said in defense of herself.

"Why don't you write real reports?" Cedric piped up, leaping to her defense.

Ignoring Cedric's comment, Rita Skeeter continued, "Cedric Diggory, handsomest boy in Hogwarts, competing with the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, not only for Triwizard Tournament glory but for the heart of simple Miss Amelia Honeycutt."

"Come off it, we said it's not true!" Amelia repeated, increasingly more annoyed.

"People don't read the Daily Prophet to read about boring truths," Rita Skeeter informed them. "They read it for excitement, and intrigue."

"Why can't you just leave us alone?" Amelia asked yet again.

Rita Skeeter opened her mouth to reply, however, before she could utter another word, she was hit directly in the side of the head with two well-aimed Dungbombs. The photographer took a picture of it, and Rita's subsequent disgusted and shocked expression, as if by automatic reaction. Because of this, Rita Skeeter smacked him on the arm with all the force that she could muster, as Amelia, Cedric, and nearly all of the other students in the place burst out with laughter.

Apparently more embarrassed than she'd ever been in her life, Rita jerked the photographer by the arm and dragged him out, leaving everyone else to laugh at her even in her absence.

A hand clapped down on either one of Amelia's shoulders. It was Fred and George, who both looked very satisfied with themselves.

"Don't worry, Honeycutt," Fred told her.

"You're an honorary Weasley now," concluded George. Winking, he added, "We've got your back."


	9. The First Task

**Chapter Nine and the first task!**

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** Enjoy! :D**

* * *

It was the morning of the First Task, and Hogwarts was truly bubbling over with nerves and excitement. The champions had been whisked off to be debriefed early that morning, leaving all the non-champion students behind to paint their faces, make signs, and rehearse the cheers they'd be yelling in support of their favorite champion.

The excitement was especially felt amongst the Hufflepuff students, who had gone all out with the yellow and black outfits and adornments. Banners and signs with words of support and well-wishes for Cedric waved through the air, as the sound of noisemakers rang out. There were more POTTER STINKS buttons floating around than ever before, though the conversations were now dominated by only wishing well for Cedric, instead of rooting against Harry.

"Amelia!" greeted Leanne, who looked like a bright bumblebee, as she pulled Amelia aside. Then, looking over her friend, she asked, "Why are you dressed like that?"

Amelia glanced down at herself - green, red and white flannel shirt, her usual tattered jeans and fraying denim jacket, ratty Chuck Taylors, gray gloves she knitted herself with a matching gray scarf, and a black beanie that bore the Hogwarts crest. In a crowd of pure yellow and black, she stuck out, to say the least.

"Er, it's how I usually dress," Amelia shrugged. Seeing the glare Leanne gave her, she then explained, "I'm not going to be biased here; Ced's my friend but so is Harry. I'd be happy to see either of them win, and I want to see both of them do well today."

"That was a politician's answer," Leanne smirked. "You should work in the Ministry talking like that, Amelia."

Amelia rolled her eyes, as Leanne tugged her along, with the rest of the crowd, making a mass exodus from the common room.

They came onto the Quidditch pitch, which looked vastly different than Amelia or any of the others had ever seen it look before. It seemed much smaller, but in reality, it was just because it was for more packed and full of banners and mascots all jammed up in the stands above. There were four distinct sections - Cedric's, adorned in Hufflepuff colors, Harry's, in Gryffindor's, Fleur's in the same soft blue the Beauxbatons' students uniforms were, and Krum's, in a deep blood red and black.

In the center of it all, where the Quidditch pitch itself usually was, were tons of rocks and stones, seeming to be assembled to look like particularly rough terrain. Amelia swallowed hard, realizing that this was supposed to mock a dragon's natural habitat, and tried to shake the fear away, though she couldn't. She knew, especially now, that Cedric would really be facing a dragon, and that there was truly no stopping it.

Much to her dismay, she seemed to be the only person who was feeling scared for the champions, rather than excited at the prospect of watching them fight off dragons.

"Excuse me, Amelia?" came a voice through the crowd.

Turning, Amelia saw Harry's friend, Hermione Granger, pushing her way through.

"Oh, er, hello, Hermione," Amelia greeted, as the frizzy-haired girl arrived at her side.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for helping Harry out," Hermione said. "It was really nice of you, and you didn't have to do it."

"It was no problem," Amelia said, with a humbleness that was undeniably sincere. "I didn't…well, I don't want to see him devoured by a dragon today."

"I just came back from the champions' tent," Hermione continued, though Amelia had assumed the conversation was over. "Harry thanks you again as well, and just in case you were wondering, Cedric's nervous but seems to be managing alright."

Amelia nodded, and Hermione began to trek further towards the Gryffindor/Potter Supporter group.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Amelia found herself asking, "Hermione, do you mind if I watch with you?"

"Oh, er, not at all," Hermione replied, looking kind of…flattered to be asked such a question. "Of course you can."

"Alright," Amelia grinned.

She elbowed her way down a bit, settling almost directly in the middle of the Diggory Supporters and the Potter Supporters. She supposed it fit; she wasn't overly zealous about seeing either one of them win, rather, she'd just want to see them both survive. Besides, she didn't mind getting to know Hermione Granger a bit better, she'd always heard fantastic things about her. And maybe there was a chance she'd get to see her newfound friends, or business partners, rather…

"Does Potter truly stink or is Diggory the dinky one?!" roared a voice from behind them in the crowd.

"Take your chances, place your bets!" chimed in another, similar voice. "Whatever amount you want to place, we'll take it!"

"Hey, Honeycutt, just the Hufflepuff we've been waiting to see!" greeted the first voice, the voice of Fred, as he and his brother each laid a hand on Amelia's shoulders, as was becoming habit.

"Who're you betting on today? Stinky Potter or dinky Diggory?" George asked. He shoved an open bag in front of her face, which was gleaming with coins, and a list of names and bets on a sheet of parchment. "We'll be nice, we'll even give you a share of our winnings, if we're proven correct today."

"You really shouldn't be gambling, especially on Harry!" Hermione piped up, irritated.

"Oh, it's all in good fun, Granger," Fred said. "Lighten up a bit…care to put a couple coins down on Harry?"

"Not at all," Hermione stated.

"What about you, Honeycutt?" George inquired, nudging Amelia's shoulder.

"I would if I could," she said in a small voice.

She wasn't going to admit it, she hadn't ever really admitted to anyone but Cedric that she had absolutely no money to her name. She got the money for her school things from the school itself. It wasn't like there was enough money for her to do anything. Orphanages weren't known for having much money.

"Not to worry, 'Melia," George said, patting her shoulder again as if he knew she needed a bit of cheering up. "We'll be glad to give you a bit of our winnings."

Hearing that she'd just been called by her first name instead of her last by one of the Weasleys, she grinned up at George, who grinned down back at her, though unknowingly.

"What's the grin for?" he asked.

"You called me Amelia," she replied. "Not Honeycutt."

"Well, you're still Honeycutt to me," Fred piped up, losing no time, as he messed her hair through her hat.

"Ah, thanks, Fred," Amelia half-grinned, playfully glaring at him as she adjusted her hat.

Things around the whole Quidditch pitch fell silent as a group of about a dozen wizards brought the first dragon into the ring, chaining it to the center, to the largest rock. Amelia recognized the type of dragon from her Care of Magical Creatures textbook - the Swedish Short-Snout, a blue-gray colored creature that nearly matched the Beauxbatons' colors.

"Alright!" boomed Ludo Bagman's voice from the judges' box, breaking the near-perfect silence. "Welcome to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament! The Ministry of Magic wishes all of the champions the best of luck in this event, the goal of which is to retrieve a single golden egg from the nest, while managing to keep the guarding dragon at bay! Now, without further adieu, let us begin! Please welcome the first champion, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The stands once again erupted in applause and cheers. Amelia clapped robotically, as she swallowed her fear and felt it sink like a stone to the bottom of her gut. She could hear all the noise and chaos around her, but at the same time, it was like complete silences, with all the nerves and fear she was feeling as she watched Cedric, dressed from head to toe in Hufflepuff colors, dash out into the ring. He did a few obligatory waves up at the crowd, before starting the task.

As Cedric fumbled around amongst the rocks, trying to get his head wrapped around the situation at hand, Amelia could hardly breath up in the stands. Her heart was pounding against her chest so hard that she thought she'd pass out and break a rib.

"C'MON CEDRIC!" she roared, suddenly finding the voice. "YOU CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE IN YOU!"

By some miracle of Merlin, Cedric heard her, and vaguely looked in the direction of her voice, and seemed to be doused with confidence all of a sudden. However, neither of them had any time to relish the moment, because the dragon wasted no time in shooting a jet of fire, which Cedric just managed to dodge by leaping behind one of the boulders.

He rolled out from behind it, then pointed his wand, causing the same boulder to Transfigure into a big, ugly looking dog. Cedric pointed his wand at the new dog, then at the dragon, and the dog began attacking the dragon, causing a diversion. Knowing it wouldn't last forever, Cedric made a mad dash for the nest, diving for the golden egg.

As soon as his hands grasped it, the crowd roared again. The dragon, however, realized what was happening, and turned to breath fire at Cedric as he made his run back to the tent, and made a direct hit. Probably would be a nasty burn, but Amelia figured a burn was better than being dead, and breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

Fleur Delacour was up next, facing the Welsh Green. Her attempt was different than Cedric's, she somehow managed to subdue the creature into a light slumber, and then made her mad dash for the egg. The dragon woke up with the commotion from the crowd and probably from sensing its nest was being disturbed, and set Fleur's skirt on fire just as she retrieved the egg, and sent her screaming back to the tent as she tried to put the fire out with water she conjured from her wand, with the laughter of some non-Beauxbatons students following her.

Krum was third, and faced the Chinese Firebolt. He went for the most direct approach, by aiming the Conjunctivitis Curse at the eyes and going straight for the egg. Krum managed to get it in probably the shortest amount of time, but the dragon, in clear agony, stomped and fumbled around, crushing half of its own eggs in the process.

Last, was Harry Potter, and once again, Amelia thought she might pass out. She was scared for Fleur and Krum too, but she didn't know them personally, so it wasn't the same kind of fear. On top of that, Harry was only a fourth year, so he didn't have the experience or knowledge the others had, even if Hermione, the top in their class, helped him. He had the most odds against him, and facing a dragon put a lot of odds against someone in the first place. Plus, he got the Hungarian Horntail, undoubtedly the worst he could've picked.

Amelia covered her mouth with her gloved hands out of fear as she watched Harry scramble into the ring, amongst the rocks and against the dragon. He seemed the least prepared, understandably, as he ran about dodging flames like a chicken with its head cut off.

"HARRY, YOUR WAND!" Hermione screamed.

"C'MON HARRY, WE'RE ROOTING FOR YOU!" Amelia chimed in. "YOU'VE GOT THIS!"

Their words didn't immediately affect Harry as Amelia's words had immediately affected Cedric, but instead he took a moment, before finally pointing his wand in the air and yelling some spell that they couldn't hear up in the stands.

"I think he's summoning his broom!" Hermione yelled. Clapping, she hollered, "That's it Harry!"

Suddenly, Harry's broom came hurling through the air, and Harry leapt onto it in one swift motion. He soared through the air, flying better than Amelia thought most professional Quidditch players could fly. The dragon followed Harry's movements through the air, as if it were a snake being charmed. The sight was truly awe-inspiring.

Harry forced his broom into a dive, managing to rip his robes against one of the Horntail's spikes as he did so, causing Amelia and Hermione to shudder a bit. He pulled back up in the air, made the Horntail dance a bit more, and finally made the broom dive again, as he scooped up the golden egg in a fluid movement, beneath the arm that hadn't been injured, and completed the task, allowing Hermione and Amelia to finally breath again.

"C'mon," Hermione beckoned, tugging at Amelia's arm. "We've got to go see Harry, and I'm sure you want to see Cedric, too."

"Oh, yeah," Amelia agreed, following Hermione through the crowd and to the champions' tent on the other side of the pitch.

Inside, Madame Pomfrey was treating all the various injuries the champions had acquired, muttering to herself about how she hated dragons. Harry was the first one Hermione and Amelia spotted, who was already talking to Ron Weasley. Presumably, the two boys had made up. Hermione had mentioned something about them having a row before the task started.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

But Harry was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.

"It's okay," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it." "No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"

"Forget it, "Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back Hermione burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.

"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front.

"We're all stupid," Amelia finally chimed in, joining the conversation. She laid a supportive hand on Harry's shoulder, and told him, "That was brilliant, really."

"Well, thanks," Harry replied humbly. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you, though, so thanks for that…"

"I didn't fly for you, Harry," Amelia responded. "I just gave you the idea…well, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I've got to see Cedric."

"Sure," Harry nodded understandingly.

Turning on her heels, Amelia found Cedric. Half of his face was smothered in a thick, pumpkin-colored paste, which Amelia assumed was for healing his burns. She couldn't help herself as she saw him, she sprinted over and gave him the biggest hug she'd ever given him in his life, and he reciprocated the gesture.

"You were brilliant," she told him, creating some space between the two of them as she kissed his non-paste covered cheek. "Honestly."

"Thanks to you," Cedric replied humbly. "Without Harry telling me it was dragons and your ideas, I'd have been just dragon bait out there."

"Well, thank Merlin you weren't," Amelia said.

Everyone then turned their attention to the judges, who announced the scores - Harry and Krum were tied for first, then Cedric, and lastly Fleur.

"Second place," Cedric breathed. "Good. Alright."

"Next time, you'll get first," Amelia winked. "Promise."


	10. The Effects of Firewhiskey

**Hello all! Thanks to everyone who's been supporting me, whether it'd be through faving, following, or reviewing, I appreciate it more than you could imagine, really!**

**Please remember to give me feedback and send in questions for me or any of the characters featured here, I think it'd be fun to start a little Q&amp;A. **

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* * *

After a night of partying in the Hufflepuff dorms to celebrate Cedric's victory in the First Task, Amelia woke up with a pounding headache. Yes, she had indulged in some firewhiskey that Herb brought from the Hog's Head, but not enough to be hungover. She figured that her sensational migraine was due to the fact that the noise was still going down in the common rooms.

She dressed lazily, in the same jeans she'd worn the day and night before, and a demure gray jumper she knitted herself. She threw on her Chucks, and tied her hair out of her face hastily, before deciding that a trip straight to Madame Pomfrey's was probably the best solution for her pain.

She made her way through the common room carefully, which was filled with kids passed out in various uncomfortable positions, and made sure that she wasn't going to trip on anyone or step on any fingers.

With her pounding headache, it took her a bit longer than usual to reach the Hospital Ward, but when she did, she was greeted immediately by Madame Pomfrey.

"Miss Honeycutt, please, take a seat, you're white as a ghost!" the woman exclaimed, guiding Amelia by the elbow to one of the cots. Seeing the glare Nearly Headless Nick gave her, she sighed, "No offense, Sir Nicholas. Only a figure of speech."

Looking back to Amelia, Madame Pomfrey laid hand on her forehead, and then asked, "What's the matter, dear? Cold? Stress? That time of the month?"

"Er, no, Madame, just a bit of a migraine," Amelia responded.

"Ah, well then, I've got just the thing, sit here for one moment," Madame Pomfrey said. She scurried off and returned with a bottle of a purplish potion, poured Amelia a shot, and told her, "Drink up, my dear, there you go."

After thanking her, Amelia obeyed Madame Pomfrey, and took the potion down in one swift swig. She couldn't say that she felt better, only that she felt, well…different.

"You feel better?" Madame Pomfrey asked. "No lightheadedness?"

"No, I feel loads better, thank you," Amelia nodded, as she rose.

"Alright, then, off with you," Madame Pomfrey replied. "Come back in 4 hours if you feel you need another dosage."

"Thanks," Amelia repeated, before exiting the Hospital Wing.

From there, she made her way to the Great Hall, where she hoped to get some breakfast. She thought that some food in her belly might do her good, and the thought of scrambled eggs was particularly appealing to her at the moment.

The Great Hall that morning was rather bare, compared to what it had been at other times. Amelia didn't think much of it, considering all the partying that she knew happened the previous night. So, she simply took her seat at the Hufflepuff table, next to an extremely disheveled looking Leanne, who was still in her bumblebee outfit from the previous day, though she looked much less bright and bumbling than she had before.

"Good morning, sunshine," Amelia greeted sarcastically, taking the seat next to Leanne. "You look positively radiant."

"Thanks," Leanne grumbled. She was barely able to keep her head up, which she was supporting with the palm of her hand as she poked at her oatmeal.

"No problem," Amelia winked, as she poured herself some tea and helped herself to the eggs.

"Good morning, ladies of Hufflepuff," greeted George, as he and Fred plopped themselves down across from Amelia and Leanne. "How're you two on this magnificent day?"

"Just superb, thanks," Leanne groaned.

"Custard cream?" Fred asked, offering her one. Amelia caught the glint in his and George's eyes, and smirked herself, quickly hiding her expression as she bowed her head down to her eggs.

"Don't mind if I do," Leanne sighed, accepting it. "Could use some sugar, a bit of a pick-me-up."

The twins exchanged a glance, which also included Amelia, as they all waited in anticipation. Leanne, oblivious, bit into the custard cream, and started sprouting yellow feathers. Amelia burst out in laughter, as did Fred and George, as they all watched Leanne transform into a great Hufflepuff-yellow canary right before their eyes, and the eyes of everyone else in the Hall. She only stayed that way for a minute, before her feathers molted off and she returned to looking like a very perturbed and very human Leanne.

"You two are insufferable!" Leanne spat, making a grand and annoyed exit from the Great Hall.

Amelia, who knew she'd get over it, looked back to Fred and George, and asked, "So I take it you two read the notebook, then?"

"Of course," George nodded. "We loved your idea of a canary cake, but we figured creams would be easier to market and handle, rather than a big cake."

"Still brilliant," Fred piped up. He pulled her notebook from his pocket, waggling it, and added, "Like everything else in here."

"Well, I'm glad it could be of use to someone other than me," Amelia responded, between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs. "And especially glad a couple of pranksters got their hands on it."

"We're glad you gave it to us," George said. He then slid a little velvet drawstring bag across the table, and told her, "Here's your cut for the day."

Raising an eyebrow, she opened the bag, to see a good amount of coins glittering up at her, and immediately told them, "What's this? I can't take your money."

"You can take your money," Fred corrected. "We sold a bunch of the Canary Creams last night to the Gryffindors. Since you gave us the idea, and it's Weasley, Weasley and Honeycutt, it's only fair you get a share."

"I can't," Amelia repeated, sliding the bag back towards them. "I really can't. It's awfully nice of you, but I can't…"

"Take it!" the said in unison, shoving it into her hands.

"Stop being such a Hufflepuff, Honeycutt," Fred joked. "And stop fighting us, it's your money, by Godric."

"Fine," Amelia muttered, defeated. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," the corrected her, again in unison.

They both rose from where they'd been sitting at the Hufflepuff table at that moment, but before they left, George asked, "Care to meet us in Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Don't mind if I do," Amelia replied, with a smile, mirroring Leanne's words from earlier.

* * *

Amelia took it upon herself to arrive in Hogsmeade earlier than when she was supposed to meet up with Fred and George, so that she could visit one of the most underrated shops in her opinion - Dominic Maestro's, the music shop. She loved music, more so Muggle music than wizard music, but when away at Hogwarts, wizard music would have to do. However, if you knew the right corner to look in at Maestro's, you knew where to find the music boxes that were enchanted to play Muggle songs.

For Amelia, that was one of the drawbacks of Hogwarts - not being able to listen to Muggle rock music, which she really loved.

Walking into the shop, Amelia greeted Maestro himself, who she'd become rather friendly with. He was a small little wizard, cheery and always repairing an instrument, and he reminded her of Professor Flitwick.

She then made a beeline for the least popular section of the store, the one with all the Muggle music boxes. She knew right where they were, and which one was which. She knew it was rather foolish of her, but she was planning to buy one today, for the first time. She'd never had the money to actually buy one before, so she just came in on the weekends to listen to them, while missing her cassette collection back at the home.

She reached for just the one she wanted - Jimi Hendrix's Axis: Bold as Love. After glancing at the prices, she decided that she could buy a couple more, and picked up The Beatles' White Album, Nirvana's In Utero, and X-Ray Spex's Germ Free Adolescents.

"Finally making some purchases, I see, Miss Honeycutt?" Maestro grinned, as he rang her up. "Twenty-five sickles, please."

For the first time in her life, Amelia had no problem paying for something, and she didn't feel guilty - music was so important to her, so it wasn't like she was wasting it on a haircut or something fuckle like that. She handed over the coins with a smile, and a sense of confidence that was so unfamiliar to her.

"Thank you," Amelia grinned, as Maestro handed her the box he'd prepared for her.

"Thank you," Maestro replied. "I'll be seeing you again soon, I'm sure."

"Already spending all of your money, I see," Fred joked, as Amelia directly ran into him exiting the store. Nosily, he added, "What'd you get?"

"Just some Muggle music," Amelia replied sheepishly, clutching the box closer to her chest. "Nothing great."

"Oh, let us see!" George whined, poking at her box.

"Later," Amelia muttered. She then used her wand to send the box back to her dorms, which greatly seemed to impress Fred and George, and then asked, "Well, what're we going to do?"

"Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer?" suggested Fred.

Seeing they were looking to Amelia for approval, she nodded, "Fine by me."

So, that's where they went, the Three Broomsticks, where the met up with Fred and George's friend and fellow Gryffindor, Lee Jordan, who was, to say the least, ecstatic to meet "the inventor more brilliant than the Weasleys."

The inside of the pub was bustling, with all kinds of Hogwarts students, some of whom were still rather giddy from all the festivities of the previous night. Some seemed to be slumped in their seats as they lazily sipped at their butterbeers, probably attempting to get over the hangovers from all the firewhisky that went around during the parties, while others seemed like they'd never felt more alive.

Fred, George, Lee and Amelia squeezed into a corner booth, the last one that was open, and ordered butterbeers all around. The boys all began talking about the task, as did Amelia, though she was noticeably less enthusiastic about the topic, seeing that she had to watch her literal best friend risk his life against a dragon. Sure, he made it, but it was terrifying to watch, even just thinking about it made her skin crawl.

In the middle of their conversation, the great Cedric Diggory himself wandered over to their booth. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and there were still remnants of the burn he'd sustained the day before on his face.

"Er, hi, Amelia," he greeted, in a manner that was extremely awkward.

"Morning, Ced," Amelia greeted. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just…er, well, I just wanted to see you about last night," he fumbled. "Was that actually…well, do you want to go talk somewhere else?"

"I'm kind of stuck," Amelia smiled, from where she was lodged between George and Lee.

"Okay," he mumbled. "Well…I just wanted to know…what happened last night, was that a fluke, or did you mean it?"

"What are you talking about?" Amelia inquired, evidently extremely confused.

"When we…er, kissed," Cedric mumbled, his cheeks flushing. "Did you mean it, or were you just drunk?"

For a moment, Amelia just sat there, wide-eyed as she tried to recollect. She remembered the headache that morning, but she didn't think she'd been that drunk…then again, she didn't remember much of last night, she hardly remembered the party…had she really kissed Ced?

"I'm sorry, I just…I don't remember that," Amelia admitted lowly. "Honestly…I must've had too much firewhiskey, or something…"

"Oh, alright," Cedric said, picking his head up, though the look in his eyes didn't indicate that he was alright. "I just needed to ask…see you then…"

After watching him leave, Lee, Fred, and George all made quite the ruckus, shoving her around playfully between them.

"You've done it!" Fred exclaimed. "You've finally snogged Diggory!"

"Please, I didn't even remember," Amelia replied.

"Oh, but he does," Lee chimed in. "I think he's in love with you, Honeycutt!"  
"Oh Godric," Amelia moaned. "Excuse me."

Finally, she was able to shove her way out from amongst the Gryffindors, and out of the pub, though all of the Hogwarts students had their eyes on her as she did so. She went outside in search of Cedric, who she found standing by the door, in the middle of what appeared to be a heated argument with Cho, who was in tears, but looked more angry than she did sad. Amelia stared at them, as if waiting for a cue to go apologize or just say something, anything, but by the glares they both gave her, it was clear neither of them wanted anything to do with her.

Amelia sighed, as she stuffed her hands in her pockets and hurried off, feeling that sinking sensation in the pit of her gut. She decided, rather stupidly, to go to Hog's Head…firewhiskey had started the problem, maybe it'd help her out of it…

* * *

She couldn't have been in there all that long, just long enough for the sun to set and for her to down a bottle of firewhiskey.

She came outside in a daze, drunk and a little less coordinated than usual, into the streets of Hogsmeade, which were now flooded in a soft light from the streetlamps. As she did, she ran directly into someone, chest to chest, whose face was obscured by the shadows and her drunkenness, but took her into their arms, making sure she wasn't going to topple over.

"I think you need to kick your firewhiskey habit," they said. "Not very Hufflepuff of you."

"Then help me kick it," Amelia replied lazily.

And she repeated her actions of the previous night - she started snogging whoever it was right there, right outside of the Hog's Head, while completely drunk, but feeling completely elated to be snogging whoever it was she'd just happened to run into.

* * *

**Now, send me your answers/votes! **

**Who do you want to have snogged Amelia outside of the Hogs' Head? Send it in! **


	11. Snowballs

**Sorry for the slight delay in publishing this chapter! **

**As always, I owe a big thank you to everyone who has faved, followed, and reviewed this story, it means the world to me! Reviews are truly my lifeblood and make my fanfiction writing world go 'round :)**

**Anyway, a few things are revealed in this chapter, and I'd love to hear your feedback! Also, if you want to ask me or any of the characters any questions, send them in!**

**Thanks again, and enjoy! :D**

* * *

Amelia spent most of the next morning feeling hungover, as she locked herself up in the Hufflepuff common room, sipping tea just to stay awake, while feverishly trying to finish her homework. She would've preferred to be doing something else, with people, but no one in Hufflepuff was really talking to her at the moment. They'd all "sided" with Cedric, though there really wasn't anything to choose sides over in Amelia's opinion, and had thus made her an outcast in her own house, as if she wasn't enough of a black sheep amongst the badgers already.

About halfway through the day, she decided she wasn't just going to sit there and be gawked at, so she packed her things and up and left. She made her way through the halls, rather stormily, and passed by Cho and her gang of Ravenclaws, and they all glared at her in silence as she passed. In fact, most people that she passed in the hallways had the same reaction. Tired of it, she decided to go to the corner where the Black Lake met the Forbidden Forest, the same place she'd practiced with Cedric a couple of weeks earlier.

The air outside was chilly, as the sky overhead was completely gray. The grass crunched beneath Amelia's Chucks, and the light yet frigid breeze nipped at her cheeks. She came to the spot she'd been seeking, and sat at the base of the tree, arms crossed. Removing her wand, she decided to do a little thing that she'd learned how to do the previous year, just to cheer herself up…

"Expecto Patronum," she murmured under her breath.

A silvery, thread-like light crept out of the tip of Amelia's wand, twisting and winding itself into its true form - a hedgehog, which proceeded to bound through the air, supported by its little light legs. Amelia couldn't help but to grin at the sight, as she had since Professor Lupin taught her how to do it the previous year when he noticed just how afraid of Dementors she really was. She had a kind of gift for the charm as well. Though she had many bad memories, she had even more happy ones, ones that she loved so much she could easily re-live to use to conjure her Patronus.

"You can do it too," came a voice from around the tree, that caused Amelia's Patronus to vaporize into thin air.

"What?" she muttered, turning her head. It was Harry. "What do you mean?"

"Conjure a Patronus," Harry said, stepping towards her. "I didn't know many other Hogwarts students could do that."

"They probably can't," Amelia shrugged. "Professor Lupin taught me how to last year. I was so scared of Dementors, and he was nice enough to give me the tip."

"Yeah, same for me," Harry nodded. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all," Amelia replied.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry said, pulling his own wand. Instead of a hedgehog, a silvery stag erupted from Harry's wand, trotted through the air a couple of times, and disappeared. "My dad, er…his Animagus form was a stag…"

"Interesting," Amelia mused. "But why're you telling me this?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Harry chuckled slightly in reply. "...Are you alright?"

"Oh, just peachy, thanks," Amelia replied playfully with a smirk. "Just need to lay off the firewhiskey, but I'm sure you're not interested in that story. What about you? Figured out that golden egg yet?"

"No, I don't even know where to start with that…," Harry replied honestly, though he sounded a bit embarrassed. "I don't mean to bother you…but do you have any ideas about it?"

"None," Amelia admitted. "The thing only screeches when you open it, so I have no idea what you're supposed to do with it. But, there's time to figure that out. February 24th, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Harry nodded. "Er…if I ask…would you mind helping me again?"

"Not at all, Potter," Amelia winked. "All you have to do is ask."

"Thanks," he grinned. "Expecto Patronum."

Amelia did the same, saying, "Expecto Patronum."

They watched in silence as the silvery hedgehog, dwarfed by the silvery stag, seemed to dance and twirl through the air, before evaporating right before their eyes. When Amelia glanced back to her right, where Harry had been, she noticed that he too had evaporated into thin air, just like their Patronuses.

* * *

The rest of November came and went, drearily so, with sleet and chilly weather that carried into December. Amelia found that not many of her fellow Hufflepuffs were very happy with her, even though Leanne, Cedric and Herbert had started talking to her again, along with her dorm mates, Heidi and Phoebe. She'd talked things out with Cedric, and decided that night after the first task was a drunken fluke, and that they were better off to be friends anyway, especially since he'd decided to make things with Cho rather official. Cho, however, was not talking to Amelia, who made her best efforts to be the bigger person.

Since the first task had ended and the next one wasn't until February, a new sensation was sweeping through the school, another tradition of the Triwizard Tournament - the Yule Ball.

It sounded fun enough to Amelia, until she heard that it was also "traditional" (or rather mandatory) to have a date. Herbert had already asked Leanne, and Ced had asked Cho, obviously, leaving Leanne alone, because the rest of the Hufflepuffs were still rather irritated with her for helping Harry and, as they put it, "breaking Cedric's heart," despite the fact that he assured them all he was just fine and very happy with Cho.

Still without a date halfway through December, Amelia begrudgingly agreed to go dress shopping with Leanne, Phoebe and Heidi. She didn't even like dress shopping to begin with.

"You know, I'd really be happy to give you one, Amelia," Phoebe said, as she smiled, watching how Amelia was so gentle with one of the half-rat-half-murtlaps that she'd picked up, after it escaped Phoebe's pocket. "You're great with them."

"Not everyone likes rats, y'know!" Leanne squealed, as she jumped away. It wasn't any secret that Leanne was one of those people.

"I don't like them either, but I'm not a baby about it," Heidi teased. "C'mon, Leanne, they're just little things, what're they going to do to you?"

"They don't have to do anything," Leanne shot back. "They just look creepy! I don't know why you love them so much, Phoebe…"

"They're sweet, really, Leanne," Phoebe assured her. "Just misunderstood, is all. The ones that are half-murtlap have a particularly nice temperament."

"Well, however nice they are, put them away," Leanne said. "We're at the shop, and you can't have those…rats running around."

"Alright," Phoebe agreed, unperturbed. Amelia grinned. A few of the things she loved about Phoebe was that she was never bothered, never phased, and always herself.

Heidi opened the door to the dress shop, and she and Leanne immediately took off, squealing. Phoebe started browsing, but seemed less enthused than the other two, while Amelia stood by the door, her arms crossed. First, she wasn't all that into shopping for clothes. Second of all, she hadn't be asked by anyone, nor could she think of anyone to ask. Third, she didn't have the money to buy a dress or dress robes or whatever they were called.

She felt like she'd been in the store for an eternity, watching Heidi and Leanne try on dresses upon dresses. Phoebe had been easy - she'd selected a pistachio and cream colored gown that reminded Amelia of a fancy cake. It was lacy, and layered, and had little bits of bows and lace tacked on, and undeniably suited Phoebe's unique personality.

Leanne chose hers next, a soft, Hufflepuff yellow gown that hugged her tight and then flowed to the floor, with light, glittering cap sleeves and a strip of jewels below her bust. Heidi took the longest, being the biggest diva of the group, but finally settled on a dress that was flecked with crimson and gold on top with thick straps, then tied with a ribbon below her bust, and fell to the floor in layers of tulle, like an overgrown tutu. Amelia couldn't say she loved it, but hey, whatever made Heidi happy.

"You really won't try anything on?" Heidi asked, as they headed to check out.

"I don't see why," Amelia shrugged, trying to hide her disappointment. "I don't have a date or the money."

"You know we'll help you out with the money," Leanne said lowly but kindly. "That's not a problem."

"I still don't have a date," Amelia said.

"Please, after people figured out Cedric fancied you, half the boys in Hogwarts have been ogling after you," Heidi piped up. "People just aren't talking to you now because the girls are jealous and the boys are too scared to talk to you."

"You're too nice," Amelia said, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"She's not," Phoebe chimed in, tucking a rat back into her pocket. "She's telling you the truth."

"You're too nice too, Phoebe," Amelia told her.

As soon as the girls exited the shop, Amelia got pelted in the side of the head with two well-aimed snowballs. She couldn't help but to smile a bit, because she already knew who was behind it. Leanne dragged Heidi away, since she wasn't exactly crazy about the two Weasleys since they'd turned her into a canary in front of the whole school, but Phoebe stayed behind with Amelia.

"Hey, Honeycutt, glad to see you survived another hangover," George joked in greeting.

"Oh, Godric, was that one of you?" she asked, flushing with complete embarrassment at the hazy memory of the previous night.

"We're not saying," they replied mischievously in unison.

That didn't make her feel any better.

"Anyway, here's your cut," Fred told her, handing her another velvet drawstring bag of money.

"Thanks," she replied. "Oh, by the way, this is Phoebe Hibbert. Phoebe, this is Fred and George Weasley."

"Nice to meet you," Phoebe said, wide-eyed, as she let one of her rats scurry over her hands.

"A pleasure," the twins said in unison.

"Well, we just wanted to give you your pay, Honeycutt," Fred nodded. "We'll be seeing you."

"Thanks," Amelia repeated, as Fred started to walk away, though George didn't.

In a very goofy manner and in a very goofy voice, George bowed a bit towards Amelia, as he asked her, "Miss Amelia Honeycutt, would you do me, Mr. George Weasley, the honor of attending the Yule Ball with me?"

Chuckling, Amelia nodded, "Sure, George, I'd love to."

"Superb," George winked, playfully kissing her hand. "See you on the 24th, Honeycutt."

Fred, who was a ways away, stood staring back at George and Amelia, his expression rather…well, unhappy. George glanced over his shoulder at Fred and grinned devilishly, though for the first time, Amelia noticed that Fred wasn't grinning back, but still looked, well, unhappy.

"Adieu for now," George winked again, before trotting off to Fred, who started his trek back to Hogwarts without his brother.

"That was peculiar," Phoebe said, cocking her head. "I guess I just understand rats better than people."

"Yeah," Amelia replied in a daze, trying to process what she'd just witnessed.

* * *

**Bonus: The Story Behind Amelia's Patronus**

**I chose a hedgehog for Amelia's Patronus for many reasons. I think they're freaking adorable for starters, but that's not it. Hedgehogs have an immunity to many types of snake venom, which, in this story, represents Amelia's perseverance against the evil forces in the wizarding world, which will become important down the road. Also, Hufflepuff House has produced the least dark wizards out of any houses, so the hedgehog is indicative of the fact that Hufflepuffs are resistant to evil forces as well. Also, though hedgehogs are adorable, they have spiny armor protecting them, which represents much of Amelia's character as well, and will be revealed more in further chapters.  
**

**I just decided to share this in case you were wondering. I didn't just pick a hedgehog at random :)**


	12. The Beginning of the Yule Ball

**So chapter 12, and with it, the Yule Ball!**

**Thanks for all the support guys, it really does mean a lot! Please leave reviews, they're my fanfiction lifeblood! :D Also, if you want to leave questions for myself or any of the characters, please do!**

**Thanks again, guys, I love you and can't thank you enough for the support, and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Amelia woke up on the morning of Christmas Eve, the morning of the Yule Ball, and realized she still had nothing to wear. A stone sank in her gut, and she became suddenly embarrassed…if she didn't have anything to wear, she wouldn't be able to go, and George had been nice enough to ask her, what was she supposed to tell him? Sorry, George, I have no money, and even with the money you and Fred have given me, it still wouldn't be enough to buy something decent.

Groaning, Amelia rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, in her usual jeans, jumper and Chuck Taylors combination. It was still dark outside, and Leanne was still snoring, so Amelia figured that she'd be safe and have some alone time before all the craziness she was sure would happen began.

Coming into the common room, Amelia found Maggie Mae curled up by the fire, and lifted her into her arms, cuddling her close to her chest for some kind of comfort.

"Miss Honeycutt!" greeted the voice of Professor Sprout, nearly causing Amelia to have a heart attack. "Just the lady I was looking to see!"

"Oh, er, good morning, Professor," Amelia greeted, trying to catch her breath.

"Good morning to you, too," Sprout nodded. She used her wand to summon a large box, and caught it in her arms and then offered it to Amelia, saying, "This is yours, Honeycutt."

Raising an eyebrow, Amelia lifted the top off the box as she was instructed to do by Professor Sprout, revealing a carefully packed dress and jewelry.

"Professor, I can't take this," Amelia said immediately. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it, but I just can't accept this…"

"You're not keeping it," Professor Sprout replied. "You're just wearing it tonight, and then you'll be returning it."

"Professor, thank you, thank you so much," Amelia said genuinely.

"Just remember, Hogwarts will always give help to those who asked for it," Sprout winked. "Just ask next time, alright?"

"Alright," Amelia nodded, grinning widely, and watched Professor Sprout disappear out of the common rooms.

* * *

"You look positively hideous, Forge," joked George, as he approached his twin from behind. "It's a wonder why Angelina ever said yes to you."

Fred, who was fumbling around with the buttons of his coat, glared at his twin via the mirror.

"Aw, don't be such a grouch," George said. "You could've asked her."

"I'd already asked Angelina," Fred replied.

"Your loss," George shrugged. "Anyway, I'll meet you down there, alright? I told Amelia I'd meet her by the Hufflepuff dormitories."

George took Fred's silence as an 'okay,' and proceeded to exit the Gryffindor dormitories and common rooms, and made his way through the buzzing hallways to the kitchen corridor and the bunch of barrels that guarded the Hufflepuff dormitories.

"Oh, hello, George," greeted Phoebe Hibbert, who looked more like a fancy cupcake than she did an actual girl. "Amelia will be right out."

"Okay, thanks," George nodded, watching the rat that crawled down her shoulder. "How many of those do you have? The rats, I mean."

"Quite a lot," Phoebe replied. "You can adopt one or some, if you want. I've been trying to persuade Amelia to take a few for ages."

"Oh, I'm alright, but thanks for the offer," George replied.

"Alright," Phoebe replied, unphased. "Look, here's Amelia."

George glanced towards the barrels, to see Cedric Diggory, full in the finest dress robes, helping a girl in an indigo blue gown out from the dormitories. At first, George thought it was odd that Cho Chang had been in the Hufflepuff dormitories, but upon seeing the honey-colored curls that cascaded down the girl's shoulders and back, he realized that it was indeed Amelia. He'd been so used to seeing her in jeans and jumpers, he didn't imagine she'd clean herself up to look so nice.

The indigo blue gown was made of soft, airy fabric that seemed to be made of almost nothing at all. The top was a sweetheart cut, ruched into a high waist, and simply flowed to the floor in an elegant, almost ethereal way. Amelia's curls looked shinier than usual, two strands braided and pulled to the back of her head, clipped there with an ornate silver and opal barrette, that matched the dainty opals in her ears and the thin silver and opal chain around her wrist. Something about the indigo blue hue of the dress and the opals made Amelia's hazel eyes appear more green than brown for once, only adding to almost fairy-like beauty she was exuding.

She looked positively radiant, and George couldn't help but to grin. He'd gotten the best looking girl and third best prankster in Hogwarts to go to the Yule Ball with him, and he'd be making his brother jealous in the process.

"You look beautiful, Amelia," George told her, in all honesty, as she approached.

"And you don't look half bad yourself, George," Amelia fired back with a playful grin. She may have looked like a different person, but she sure didn't sound like one.

"Hello, George," Cedric greeted, coming up beside her to shake George's hand. "Haven't gotten to talk since the World Cup, eh?"

"That's right," George confirmed. "You didn't do too shabby in the First Task, Diggory."

"I owe that all to Amelia," Cedric said. Then, in a more serious tone, he said, "And, I mean this is the nicest way possible, Weasley, but if you do anything to her, one toe out of line, I'll … -"

"Cedric!" Amelia whispered harshly, jabbing him in the side with her elbow.

Grinning, George said, "Sorry, Diggory, but I think she can take care of herself. I'm sure you've seen her hexes?"

"Of course," Cedric nodded. "Well…er, I've got to meet up with Cho, so I'll see you later, alright?"

"Okay, bye, Ced," Amelia bid. Then, looking to George, she playfully inquired, "Well, are we going to do this?"

Groaning in an equally playful manner, George offered an arm, and replied, "I suppose, if I must."

"You're hilarious," Amelia said, as she locked elbows with him. "I just hope you're as good at dancing as you are jokes."

* * *

"Close your mouth, Forge, you'll start catching flies," George joked, prodding his brother with his elbow.

Fred obliged, but only after glaring at George, as the two of them stood by the punch table, where they were getting drinks for their dates. Not too far away, Amelia stood with Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Lee, and a number of other Gryffindors George had introduced her to. It was clear that Amelia was being quite entertaining, as all the Gryffindors were roaring with laughter around her, laughter that could be heard over the incredible ruckus of the Weird Sisters.

"You've been a real git lately, y'know that?" Fred inquired sharply.

"Because I've been the one with the guts lately?" George countered calmly. "You don't have a monopoly on being the ladies' man. Amelia, frankly, is kind of amazing, so I asked her. I didn't make you ask Angelina, so don't be mad at me."

Fred stared at George. He had a point there.

"Besides, you can't feel too bad," George said, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "Amelia snogged you outside the Hog's Head that night, not me."

With that, George winked at his twin, before returning to Amelia.

"Punch for the lady," he joked, handing her a glass.

"Thanks," Amelia grinned, gulping it all down in nearly one sip. "Is it time for you to show me those dance moves you were bragging about earlier?"

"Prime time," George agreed. "And this song is fabulous."

They were both laughing, as George guided Amelia onto the crowded dancefloor, hand-in-hand. He twirled her around, causing her the airy skirt of her dress to float around her as if by magic, as she threw her head back with laughter, and, dizzy from the twirl, fell into him, as he joined in with the laughing. Soon enough, though, they danced their way into the midst of the crowd, and out of view to those who were away from the action.

"Amelia's such a sweetheart, isn't she?" Angelina asked, as she grabbed Fred's arm and leaned her head against her shoulder. "I wish we'd been introduced sooner, she's absolutely lovely, and quite a laugh."

Fred nodded vaguely, going up on his toes to try and see where George and Amelia had gone off to. When he didn't, he came back down, and sighed without even realizing it. Angelina, realizing what Fred was looking for and why, her expression changed a bit, but not as drastically as one might have expected.

"Want to dance?" Angelina inquired.

"Er, sure," Fred nodded, looking back down to her. "It's a ball, after all, so that's what we're supposed to do."

"Right," Angelina responded, seeing just how distracted Fred seemed to be.

While Fred and Angelina slightly awkwardly made their way onto the dance floor, Amelia and George were having the time of their lives. Amelia was dizzy and giddy from all the twirls George had her doing. Her head was spinning with excitement and joy, as the Weird Sisters filled her ears, and one of her hands rested on George's shoulders while the other was intertwined with his other hand.

"Amelia!" shouted a happy voice.

"Hello, Hermione!" Amelia replied. "You look lovely!"

"Thanks, so do you!" Hermione beamed. She pulled her partner in closer, and said, "Amelia, this is Viktor Krum, and Viktor, this is my friend, Amelia Honeycutt."

"A pleasure," Krum replied in a thick accent, while kissing the back of her hand in greeting.

"Lovely to meet you as well!" Amelia grinned.

"And this is George Weasley," Hermione added.

"Big fan, big fan!" George beamed, shaking hands with Krum. "You were amazing at the World Cup!"

"Thank you," Krum said, nodding politely. "Hermy-one, vould you like a drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione nodded. As Viktor Krum began to pull her off by the hand, Hermione bid, "Have fun, I'll see you later!"

"You too, Hermione!" Amelia called.

"Krum and Hermione," George mused, once they were out of earshot. "Never would've put the two of them together, would you?"

"Suppose not," Amelia replied, cocking her head as she watched them go. "But they look lovely together, don't they?"

"I suppose," George agreed. "You think people are saying that we look lovely together?"

"You wish, Weasley," Amelia winked.

Their conversation was interrupted, when the eccentric lead singer of the Weird Sisters announced they'd be slowing things down a bit. Around half of the couples cleared off the dance floor, but not George and Amelia. Instead, George bowed goofily, as he had when he asked her to the Yule Ball, and offered her a hand. Giggling, Amelia accepted in an equally goofy way, and the two began to waltz slowly about the room, barely able to contain their laughter.

Across the way, Fred and Angelina were dancing together as well, though neither of them looked as happy to be doing so. Fred was quite blatantly staring over at George and Amelia with a kind of scowl, while Angelina was glaring up at Fred, wishing she hadn't come with someone who clearly wished to be there with someone else.

"Ouch!" Angelina shrieked, as Fred stomped on her foot, having not paid any attention.

"Sorry," Fred mumbled, finally looking to his actual date.

"You know, Fred Weasley, nobody forced you to ask me to this," Angelina spat under her breath, as she released him. "If you wanted to ask Amelia, you should've done it before George did."

With that, Angelina stomped over to Katie and Alicia, who were taking punch breaks, leaving Fred alone in the middle of the dance floor, to watch George and Amelia by himself.


	13. The Conclusion of the Yule Ball

**And so we conclude the Yule Ball!**

**Thanks to everyone who's been supporting me through this endeavor, it means the world to me! Special shout outs to alb33, Fading Ashes and Ultimatefangurl1 for their regular reviews, it means the world to me! I love hearing from you guys, so don't be shy! Reviews are truly my lifeblood!**

**Remember, if you have questions for me or any of the characters, you can send those in as well!**

**Thanks again everyone, and enjoy!**

* * *

"Just admit it!" George bellowed with laughter. "Admit I'm the best dance partner you've ever had, Honeycutt."

Amelia threw her head of honey-colored curls back with her own laughter, as she replied, "You, George Weasley, are the only dance partner I've ever had, and therefore you are the best dance partner I've ever had."

"That's right," George winked. "And don't forget it."

"You've been hanging out with me too long, stealing my catch phrase," Amelia grinned. "Anyway, you mind if I take a little dance break?"

"Sure thing, your heels hurting you?" George inquired.

"Not at all," Amelia smirked. She lifted the skirt of her dress, revealing her usual Chuck Taylors. "I'd just like to catch my breath, is all."

"Go for it," George nodded, still grinning. "Looks like dear old Fred wants to have a chat with me, so take your time."

"Alright," Amelia nodded.

She headed off, though she saw Fred approaching George as she left and Fred again looked rather…unhappy. She shrugged it off, being that kind of person, and walked over to where Katie, Alicia and Angelina were sitting around a table. As she came upon them, she saw that Angelina was in tears and Alicia and Katie were trying to comfort her, and immediately glared at Amelia.

"Oh, er…is everything alright?" Amelia inquired. There was genuine concern in her voice, though that didn't seem to matter, seeing that Alicia glared up at her. "Did I…did I do something?"

"Yeah, you did something you - …" Alicia began, but was only cut off by Angelina.

"She didn't do anything, 'Licia," Angelina piped up in Amelia's defense. "It's not your fault, Amelia."

"Well, what happened?" Amelia asked, pulling up a chair. "Are you alright?"

"Well…er, it's just that…Fred's been a rather lousy date," Katie filled in, wiping Angelina's eyes. "He's been pretty much ignoring her, and gawking at…er, you, Amelia. He's been making it pretty obvious he would've rather come with you."

"What?" Amelia mumbled, feeling the sinking stone sensation in her gut once again. "Angelina, I'm so sorry I never meant to…I'm sorry…"

"It's not your fault," Angelina repeated, doing her best to smile. "It's Fred's fault, for being such an arse and asking me if he didn't really want to take me."

"Still, I'm sorry," Amelia said, squeezing Angelina's hand between her own. "You didn't deserve to have your night ruined by a boy. You deserved better, and I'm really sorry."

"You're a real Hufflepuff, Amelia," Angelina sniffled with a smile. "You're far too nice."

"Just honest," Amelia smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hermione Granger whiz by, hiding her face behind her hands, and Amelia sighed, and then said, "Excuse me."

The three Gryffindor girls all nodded, as Amelia went off after Hermione to see what was bothering her. She shoved her way through the crowd as politely as possible, trying to figure out where Hermione had run off to, when, instead, she ran into Fred and George, who seemed to be having quite the row in the doorway of the Great Hall. And, seeing Fred after hearing what he'd done to Angelina made Amelia rather angry, and she was going to make it known.

"You're an arse, Fred Weasley!" she shouted, slapping him on the arm. "You should be ashamed of yourself for being so horrible to Angelina!"

"I should be ashamed?" Fred replied. "What about you, all you do is get drunk and snog people and then don't have a care in the world about how they might feel about it! First Cedric, and then me outside of the Hog's Head…what, will George be next? Who haven't you gotten drunk and snogged yet, Honeycutt?"

Seething, she shot back, "You couldn't have just been mature about it and told me it was you that night? And for your information, I haven't snogged everyone in Hogwarts, Cedric was the first and then there was you."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't get drunk and snog random blokes," Fred fired.

Amelia rolled her eyes, and almost scolded him, saying, "Well, maybe if you'd just admitted it was you that night and been a man and stopped being a stubborn prat and asked me to the Yule Ball instead of being an arse to Angelina, we wouldn't be having this argument, and you could've actually had a chance with me."

Fred looked like he was about to explode with rage, but stood wordless, as George's eyes flickered between the both of them. Amelia was just as angry, but she had a way of keeping her exterior cool as a cucumber which somehow seemed to anger Fred more.

Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything else, Amelia whipped around on her heels and stormed off into the entrance hall, deciding to look for Hermione, like she'd planned on.

Maybe she'd made a mistake befriending Fred and George.

She tried to push the thoughts and the fresh memories of her fight with Fred, as she came upon Hermione, who was sitting against the wall on the stairs, her shoes kicked off of her feet.

"Everything alright, Hermione?" Amelia asked warmly, as she took a seat next to the usually bushy-haired Gryffindor.

"Ron Weasley is a complete and total arse," Hermione sniffed, looking up at Amelia through her tears.

"Yeah, well, it must run in the family," Amelia remarked. "Fred hasn't been the nicest tonight…but what'd Ron say or do?"

"I don't want to burden you," Hermione mumbled. "...You really don't mind?"

"Not at all," Amelia assured her. "We're friends, and friends help each other out, right? I'll help you out if you need me to lend an ear or a shoulder."

"Well, it's just that…," Hermione began, trying to string her words together. "I thought…maybe it was foolish of me, but I thought, I hoped that…that Ron would ask me to the ball, y'know? And he didn't, and time was running out, and Viktor asked me, so I said yes…I couldn't wait around for Ron forever, could I? Then he asked me last minute, and when I told him I already had a date, he insisted I was lying…and now that I'm here with Viktor all Ron's done is act like a complete arse with jealousy."

"I'm really sorry, Hermione," Amelia said honestly, giving the younger girl a good hug. "Boys are arses, always, and that's not going to change…they'll mature, sure, but they're not always going to be perfect, and neither are girls. But, I'm sure Ron will figure out what he's missing out on someday, or else I'll make sure to shove it in his face."

Through her tears, Hermione laughed a bit, and then replied, "Thanks, Amelia, it really means a lot…I don't mean to sound foolish, here, but…how is it that you can be you? So helpful, I mean."

Shrugging, Amelia playfully answered, "All in a day's work for a Hufflepuff, I suppose."

"Well, thanks," Hermione grinned.

"Not a problem," Amelia assured her. Rising to her feet, she offered her a hand, and said, "C'mon, I'll walk you back to your dorms. I think you deserve a nice, hot bath."

"Thanks," Hermione repeated, picking up her shoes as she stood.

Arm-in-arm, Amelia and Hermione made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, where they parted ways with a hug at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Anything you need, Hermione, don't be afraid to come and see me, alright?" Amelia told her. "Your two best friends are boys, and they don't always understand girl things…so really, I'm here if you need me."

"I can't thank you enough," Hermione sighed.

"You already have," Amelia smiled. "G'night."

"'Night, Amelia," Hermione bid, disappearing into the Gryffindor common room.

Amelia turned to go back to the Hufflepuff dormitories, and nearly ran head-on into George.

"Wow, didn't see you there," she mumbled, clutching her chest as she tried to calm herself down.

"I see," George grinned. "Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for Fred. He's just a bit lovestruck with you, and well…doesn't know how to handle it, as you can tell."

"Well then why didn't he just ask me instead of being so rude to Angelina?" Amelia inquired.

"He'd already asked her, and then you two snogged that night in Hogsmeade, and the poor boy's head hasn't been quite right ever since," George said. "Y'know, you really have to be quite the snog to get Diggory and Fred to fall for you. If you ever want to sharpen your technique, I'm here…"

"Come off it," Amelia grinned, punching him in the arm.

"It's the truth," George shrugged. "I mean, I like you and all, but I don't fancy you quite like my brother does. Just give him a chance to cool down, and maybe accept an apology?"

"Fine," Amelia agreed. "Fair enough."

"Good," George nodded. "G'night."

"Goodnight to you too, George," Amelia responded. "I had a lovely time."

"As did I, Honeycutt," George winked. "As did I."

After watching George disappear into the Gryffindor common room after Hermione, Amelia turned and started the journey back to the Hufflepuff common rooms, chewing her bottom lip as her cheeks flushed with the memory of kissing Fred Weasley in front of the Hog's Head.


	14. Moody, Exploding Snap, and an Apology

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* * *

After the fun and games of the Yule Ball had come and gone, the reality of the year began to press down once again. For the champions, that meant preparing for the next task on February 24th. For regular fifth year students like Amelia, that meant buckling down in preparation for O.W.L's, and sitting down with their Heads of Houses to talk careers.

Amelia took a deep breath before entering Professor Sprout's greenhouse office for her turn.

"Honeycutt, yes, have a seat, my dear," Sprout insisted, while looking over Amelia's transcript through her spectacles. "Well, there's nothing to complain about here, with grades like these, you'll be giving the top Ravenclaws a run for their galleons, eh? You could really do anything with a brain like this…you have any ideas?"

"Er, well," Amelia stuttered. She did have an idea, but the confidence? Maybe she didn't have that.

"Speak up, dear," Sprout prompted. "I'm not mind reader."

"A Healer, ma'am," Amelia burst. "I think I'd like to be a Healer. I really like helping people and I've been told I'm helpful…so I think I'd make a fine Healer."

"Fine?" Sprout asked, raising her eyebrows. "You'd make a great Healer, Honeycutt. Now, just keep up the grades like these, and you'll be fine."

Amelia left Professor Sprout's office, unsure of how to feel. She supposed she should've been proud that Sprout was so confident in her ability it become a Healer, but at the same time, she knew it'd be a long and difficult road, and that gave her plenty of anxiety. Also, she wanted to be a healer now, but she was only a fifth-year, fifteen years old…was she really supposed to know what she wanted to do for the rest of her life at such a young age?

"How'd it go?" Cedric inquired, as he'd been waiting for her outside of the greenhouse.

"Sprout thinks I can do it," Amelia replied. "Become a Healer, I mean."

"That's great!" Cedric praised. Draping an arm around her shoulder as they began to go back into the castle, he continued, "I told you, you could do it."

"I didn't get the job yet, Ced," Amelia said. "There's a lot of work I'll have to do to get there."

"But you'll be fine," Cedric assured her. "With a brain like yours, 'Melia…"

"I know, I know," she brushed off. Changing the subject, she questioned, "How are things with Cho?"

Immediately, Cedric's expression changed to a slightly pink-cheeked smile, as he told her, "Great, just fabulous. She keeps dropping hints that she wants me to take her to Madame Puddifoot's for Valentine's Day, which I'm not to keen on…"

"You've got to do what you've got to do for love, Diggory," Amelia winked.

"Yeah, well, do me a favor and just keep Herb far away on the 14th," he said. "If he sees or hears about me and Cho going there, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Sure thing," she replied playfully. "I'll make sure Herb and I have front row seats to your snog session with Cho at Madame Puddifoot's."

"You're awful," chuckled Cedric.

"Awfully amazing, I know," she nodded sarcastically. "Have you figured out that bloody egg yet?"

"No," sighed Cedric, sounding rather defeated. "I mean, you were there, you suggested I try to charm it or something, and that didn't work…maybe I'm just supposed to decipher the screaming? Or maybe I have to brave it out and some kind of written instructions will just pop out?"

"I haven't got a clue," Amelia sighed honestly.

"For once in your life, Honeycutt," Cedric joked dryly.

The two rounded a sharp corridor, and nearly ran head-on into Mad-Eye Moody, giving both of them the shock of a lifetime.

"Diggory!" Moody exclaimed in greeting. "Just the one I've been looking for, boy, I'd like to give you a tip about the egg…"

Being the Hufflepuff he was, Cedric replied, "Sir, I appreciate it and all, but I'm supposed to figure things out on my own for the Tournament."

"Oh, come off it, you think Fleur Delacour and Krum aren't playing without help and hints?" Moody asked rhetorically. "Exactly. Now, just listen here - open the egg underwater."

"Sir?" Cedric inquired.

"You heard me Diggory," Moody said sharply. "Underwater. And one of you, tell Potter for me, he's got the right to know and I've got homework to grade."

With that, Mad-Eye Moody limped past them down the corridor, towards his classroom, leaving both Amelia and Cedric speechless as they watched him off.

"You think that'll work?" Cedric asked Amelia.

With a shrug, she replied, "He may be mad, but that's the only plausible idea we've heard about the egg…might as well give it a shot."

* * *

Meanwhile, across the castle in the Gryffindor Tower, a rather large group of students sat around a table by the fire, heavily engaged in a game of Exploding Snap. Nobody was really playing by the rules, much to the annoyance of Hermione, who'd been roped into playing by Ron, but either way, they were all really into the game.

"What's wrong with Fred?" Ron inquired, with a mouthful of Chocolate Frog.

"Nothing's wrong with me, you git," Fred fired, chucking a crumpled ball of parchment at his brother's head.

"It's called being lovesick, Ron," George said playfully, patting his younger brother's shoulder. "Fred may have ruined his chances with the love of his life after the Yule Ball incident."

"I still can't believe you yelled at her like that," Hermione said.

"She told you?" Fred asked, looking rather embarrassed.

"Well, everyone could hear you two screaming at each other," Hermione informed him. "And then she told me what you said the other day, and I can't say I'm too impressed."

"She deserved it," Fred mumbled, trying to justify his actions.

"Amelia Honeycutt could not have possibly deserved that, mate," Lee piped up. "She's got to be the sweetest girl in Hogwarts. Her name even sounds sweet, for Godric's sake."

A chorus of "yeah's" echoed around the table, from Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Ginny, and Katie, which only caused Fred to sink lower in his seat.

"I told him, he can't take it out on her," George said. "It's not her fault he's a bumbling idiot in the romance department."

"You didn't have to ask her."

It was now Katie who spoke up, saying, "At least George asked someone he liked, and didn't ask someone just for the sake of asking someone and then treated them badly at the ball."

"I asked Angelina before…," Fred said, trailing off.

"Before the fact that you fancy her slapped you in the face when you snogged her?" George asked with a smirk.

"You snogged her?!" Ron asked, pretty much yelling so that the whole castle could hear him. "Why haven't I heard about this?"

"Hermione already told you, you're oblivious," Ginny spoke up. "That's why. You just haven't been listening, I think the whole school's heard about it by now."

"What's the whole school heard about?" asked a curious Neville as he passed by with a thick Herbology book.

"Fred snogged Amelia Honeycutt, fell in love with her, and now he's mad about it," Ginny informed him.

"Oh, I hadn't heard that," Neville said.

"Thanks, Neville," Ron shot. "See, I'm not the only clueless one around here!"

"I'm not in love with her!" Fred exploded. "Godric, you're all arses!"

They all watched Fred storm off to the boys' dormitories, at a loss for words.

"He's got it bad," Lee remarked, looking to George. "Never seen him like this."

"Neither have I," George agreed. Rising to his feet, he added, "I'll go talk to him."

Just as he stood to leave, all of the cards exploded in unison.

* * *

The next afternoon in Snape's basement Potions course, the students were hard at work brewing Invigoration Draught. Many were close to nervous breakdowns, as Snape made his rounds through the room to inspect each and every cauldron. However, Amelia did not seem as frazzled as others, like Leanne sitting next to her, who was literally on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"Miss Moore," Snape said, in that very particular voice of his. "This is far too thick, and the incorrect color. While it should be a violet color, yours is yellow, am I correct?"

"I'm sorry, Professor," Leanne mumbled.

"Evanesco," Snape said, causing all of the potion to disappear from her cauldron. "Start again, and whatever you have brewed, place on my desk by the end of the class."

Nodding fervently, Leanne flipped back to the first page of the potion in her book, as Snape moved onto Amelia's cauldron.

Looking at her with his oil-black eyes, he concluded, "Surprisingly adequate, Miss Honeycutt."

Knowing this was a huge compliment from a git like Snape, Amelia nodded, a small gesture of her thanks, as Snape moved on to evaluating Cho and Marietta behind them.

The class wrapped up not to after that, and while placing her phial of potion with the others on Snape's desk, Amelia noticed hers was one of the few that was even close to being the right color. Leanne, on the other hand, barely had a drop of her turquoise concoction to hand in, and seemed rather upset about it, understandably.

"Can you help me with Potions, please, 'Melia?" Leanne begged on their way out. "I can't take Snape vanishing my work anymore, you've got to help me."

"Sure, I'll help you," Amelia assured her friend. "We can study tonight, after dinner, if you want."

"Ugh, you're truly the best," Leanne grumbled gratefully, leaning on Amelia for support. "We'd all have failed out if it wasn't for you."

"That's not true," Amelia replied. "You're all perfectly capable."

"Yeah, but you saved Cedric last year, helping him study for his charms O.W.L," Leanne said. "And Herb wouldn't be able to Transfigure a rat into a cup if it hadn't been for you."

"Cedric just needed the confidence," Amelia shrugged. "And Herb just needed a good kick in the arse that even McGonagall wouldn't dare to give him."

Leanne laughed along with Amelia as they came to the staircase that would lead them to Divination, they were interrupted.

"Oi, Honeycutt!"

Turning around, both Amelia and Leanne saw the two Weasley twins approaching them from the bottom of the stairs.

"What is it?" Amelia asked, her eyes flickering between the two of them.

Fred cleared his throat, prompting George to elbow him in the ribs. After glaring at his brother, Fred finally said, "I came to apologize, Amelia. I shouldn't have yelled out you like I did that night at the Yule Ball."

"Alright, apology accepted," Amelia nodded. She offered him a hand, which he accepted, and she shook. "Friends."

Leanne, who looked just as confused as Fred, hesitantly followed Amelia up the stairs to Divination, leaving Fred and George behind in the dust.

"I'll never understand girls, Gred," Fred grumbled, watching her go.

"That's the beauty of them, Forge," George grinned.


	15. A Flock of Cardinals

**Chapter fifteen already? Where's the time gone!**

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* * *

"I reckon Moody isn't as mad as they say he is," Cedric said, grinning as he took a seat next to Amelia on the loveseat by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. His hair was still damp from the bath he'd gone to take on the fifth floor prefects' bathroom, and he handed Amelia the golden egg, and said, "Turns out he tipped me off correctly."

"You've been there all this time?" Amelia yawned. The clock said 12:34, a.m., that is. "I thought you'd fallen asleep in there. Everyone else hit the hay hours ago."

"Well, the bloody thing speaks in riddles," Cedric informed her, adjusting himself to better face her, and shoved a slightly went piece of parchment into her hands, saying, "I scribbled it down…would you mind having a go at figuring it out?"

"Not at all," Amelia said, unfolding it.

She read, "Come seek us where our voices sound - we cannot sing above the ground - and while you're searching ponder this; we've taken what you'll sorely miss - an hour long you'll have to look - and to recover what we took - but past an hour, the prospect's black - too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

"Any ideas?" Cedric inquired, nearly unable to contain himself.

"Huh," Amelia mumbled, her mind reeling. "I dunno, Ced, I'll need a little time to figure it out…just promise me you'll tell Harry to open it underwater."

"Of course," Cedric said. "It's only fair."

* * *

Valentine's Day fell during the week, so that meant Cedric was taking Cho to Madame Puddifoot's in honor of Valentine's Day the Sunday before. And you could be sure that Herb and Amelia were giving him hell about it.

"Nice outfit, Ced," Herbert chortled. "Love it."

Cedric laughed sarcastically, and then glared at Herbert. Of course, he expected the teasing, especially because of the small Cupid pinned to his maroon sweater, one that twirled heart-tipped arrows around in its fingers.

"The little Cupid really ties everything together," Amelia giggled. She poked the Cupid miniature, which prompted it to jab her in the finger with its arrow, and she quickly drew back, shoving her punctured finger into her mouth, mumbling, "That thing's vicious."

"Must take after the two of you," Cedric joked. Looking to Herbert, he added, "I don't know why you're making fun of me, you have a date with Leanne yourself."

"Yeah, but I'm not wearing a rabid Cupid," Herbert replied. "And I'm not taking her to Madame Puddifoot's either, we're just going to the Three Broomsticks. I'm not that much of a wuss to let her talk me into Madame Puddifoot's; I wouldn't be caught dead in there."

"Well then," Cedric muttered, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. "I must be off, got to meet Cho. See you two later, I suppose."

"Can I be a bridesmaid, Ced?" Amelia teased.

"And I better be best man, Diggory!" added Herb with a smirk.

Shaking his head, Cedric exited through the round doors, obviously to go get Cho from the Ravenclaw common room.

"Leanne, you look lovely," Herb said, as Leanne entered the common room.  
"Thanks," Leanne blushed, tucking some of her dark, straight hair behind her ears.

She wore a black and red knee length plaid skirt with a nice, warm looking crimson peacoat, matching scarf, thick black tights, and red Wellingtons with wool socks. She'd fixed her hair so that it was half-up, half-down, secured with a glittering heart-shaped barrette at the back of her head. She looked great, especially compared to Amelia, who was in a ratty flannel, ratty jeans, and as always, her ratty Chucks, with her unwashed, unkempt hair hastily braided down her back and beneath a Hufflepuff black and yellow beanie.

After telling Leanne and Herbert to enjoy themselves, she found herself alone in the common room. Of course, there were the few odd kids younger than her scattered about, playing Exploding Snap or scribbling feverishly on parchments, but almost everyone else was out and about, even if they didn't have a date.

Amelia sighed. This was the first Valentine's Day she wouldn't be spending with Cedric, Herbert and Leanne. The four of them usually strolled through Hogsmeade, made fun of the other students on dates in Madame Puddifoot's and those students who clearly didn't know what to do when it came time to kiss their dates, shared a round or two of butterbeers, and then had a snowball fight before returning to the common room for a good game of Exploding Snap by the fire. Now, Cedric was going to be the kind of student that took a date to Madame Puddifoot's, and Herbert and Leanne were going to be the couple that couldn't figure out how to snog each other.

And where did that leave Amelia?

She had no idea.

* * *

The actual day of Valentine's Day rolled around, and most of the girls around the castle were nearly as giddy as they were when they found out about the Yule Ball. They chattered all through their classes, much to the annoyance of Amelia. She was annoyed on one half because she'd never been the type to get giddy over such silly things, but at the same time, she was annoyed because she was single on Valentine's Day, something she immediately hated herself for thinking.

However, in Charms that afternoon, Cho apologized for being the way she'd been and nearly setting Amelia on fire. She said she had a lovely time with Cedric that Sunday, and that whatever Amelia had said to him, she was happy about, because Cedric had "really improved and became quite the gentleman." Amelia was just happy she wouldn't have to worry about Cho setting her on fire anytime soon.

Flitwick had chosen to teach them the Bird-Conjuring Charm that day, which he seemed to be regretting in retrospect. Severed bird parts laid around the room, as did plenty of bird droppings, and the few birds that had managed to survive being conjured were trying to peck each others' eyes out, a few even daring to attack Flitwick himself, who went about vanishing them in a frantic fashion.

Avis, thought Amelia, because for some reason, non-verbal magic was her strong suit.

After thinking the incantation and performing the exact wand movement Flitwick had demonstrated at the beginning of the class, Amelia watched in awe as a flock of scarlet cardinals erupted from the tip of her wand. As if choreographed, the soared into the air, flying around in a perfect circle, before landing gracefully on Amelia's desk and shoulders, one even landing in her hair. They seemed to be awaiting a command.

"Miss Honeycutt, brilliant, just brilliant!" Flitwick exclaimed, frantically swatting birds away from his head. "Five points to Hufflepuff, since you've been the only one to summon proper birds!"

Amelia left Charms feeling just as bummed out as she had when she entered it. The only difference was that now she was being followed by a flock of cardinals. She didn't have the heart to vanish them, and they seemed to be pretty content to follow her.

Except one, which flew off toward Gryffindor Tower.


	16. Maybe Friends

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* * *

"Your little friend is still here, Forge," George observed, as a small cardinal flittered around his brother's head.

"I know," Fred groaned, once again trying to swat it away. "The bloody thing's driving me mad. Who do you think set it on me? Amelia?"

"I think Amelia could do better than a little bird," George said. "I don't know if anyone set it after you, or it just thinks your hair looks like its nest."

"Hilarious," Fred grumbled. "You try having a bloody bird buzzing around your head and see if you can still have a proper 'do."

"Ah, don't look now, but the love of your life is walking by with Diggory," George warned playfully.

Fred lowered his head involuntarily, as if by instinct, though his eyes remained fixated on Amelia as she walked by, laughing, with Cedric. He couldn't help but to notice how pretty she looked when she laughed. That was an obvious statement; most people looked their best when laughing, but something about her laugh made her look particularly pretty, more so than the average person.

Besides noticing just how pretty Amelia Honeycutt looked in that particular moment, both Fred and George noticed that a rather sizeable flock of cardinals danced through the air behind her. The cardinal that had been following Fred landed on its shoulder, cocking its head as it watched the passing flock, before ruffling its wings and soaring off to join the others, which it did momentarily, before landing on Amelia's shoulder, startling her.

She looked as if she was about to jump out of her pants when the little creature landed on her, she was so startled. Both she and Cedric seemed to laugh at this, and when Amelia lifted her head, she caught Fred's brown eyes with her hazel ones, and the smile immediately slipped off her face. Her lips sealed themselves, she nervously tucked some honey-colored hair behind her ears, and quickly picked up the pace to catch up with Cedric, who'd taken a few steps without her.

"What do you reckon it is that she sees in him?" Fred inquired, shifting in his seat as Amelia and Cedric left the courtyard.

"I don't think she sees anything in him, mate," George replied. "She's told me they're friends, have been since her first year. Besides, haven't you heard about Diggory and Cho?"

"Well, then why are they always together?" Fred continued, pretty much ignoring his brother. "They're always together, always. And Diggory may be snogging Cho Chang this month, but that doesn't change the fact that when he looks at Amelia he looks like he's gotten drunk off a love potion."

"I told you, Amelia and Diggory are friends," George repeated. "Or at least, that's what Amelia thinks. She doesn't think of him as anything else."

"That doesn't mean that he doesn't think of her as something else," Fred remarked. "And don't tell me that's not true just because he happens to be seeing Cho Chang right now. He's known Amelia longer than he's been snogging Cho."

"You're really touchy about her, aren't you?" George asked. This time, though, he was serious, not sarcastic or playful, as he almost always was when discussing Amelia with his brother. "Lee was right; you've got it bad. Why don't you just ask her out for a butterbeer or something and get it over with?"

"You know what, you're right," Fred said, rising to his feet. He chucked the glove he'd been fiddling with back at his brother - it was one of the inventions they'd been toying with from Amelia's notebook, one that shocked the person you shook hands with when you wore it. "I will, and I'm going to do it right now."

"Good for you!" George praised, giving his twin a good pat, or slap rather, on the back. "Go on now!"

Fred hurried off in the direction that Amelia and Cedric had gone in, with George on his tail a ways away. Coming into the corridor from the courtyard, it wasn't hard to spot Amelia and Cedric, who were sitting on a bench by the stairs, fixated on a piece of parchment in her hands. Fred grumbled under his breath a bit as he saw just how close Pretty Boy Diggory was sitting to Amelia. If he was that serious about Cho, he wouldn't be sitting like that.

"Amelia," Fred greeted, coming to a halt before the two Hufflepuffs on the bench. He froze for a moment, feeling suddenly nervous in a way he'd never felt before.

With a glint in her eye, Amelia replied, "Glad to see you've learned my first name."

"Yeah," Fred nodded. "Er…I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday afternoon or evening, for a butterbeer."

Amelia's smile faded away, which really made Fred lose a lot of the confidence he'd boosted up in the last few moments.

"Oh, that's really nice of you, Fred, but I've promised to help Cedric prepare for the Second Task," Amelia said, sounding sincerely apologetic. "I'm really sorry. I can go with you and George next weekend, after the Task, though."

"I didn't mean with George," Fred piped up, trying to use whatever confidence he had left. "Just with me."

"Oh," Amelia said, realization washing over her face. She looked to Cedric, and then rose from her seat, stepping towards Fred so Cedric wouldn't be able to hear what she was about to say. Laying a hand on his arm, Amelia told Fred, "Look, I know what happened outside the Hog's Head that night, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression or anything, I like you plenty as a friend…I'm just not looking for a relationship or anything. I'm really sorry. Can we be friends again, though?"

"Sure," Fred nodded. "Friends, right."

"I'm really sorry," she repeated, giving him a quick hug. When it ended, both of their cheeks were nearly as red as the cardinals that flew overhead. "I'll see you, alright?"

"Sure," Fred nodded again, beginning to return to George. "By the way, those shock gloves are brilliant."

"Thanks," she grinned. "Glad you two are still getting some use out of that old notebook."

"Weasley, Weasley and Honeycutt," Fred winked. "Payday's soon."  
"Fabulous, can't wait."

As Fred and George started their trip to the Great Hall for dinner, George asked, "Rejected?"

Fred smirked. "Not quite."

* * *

"Really?!" Leanne exclaimed, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. "Fred Weasley asked you on a date and you said no?!"

"That's right," Amelia nodded. She was doing her best to seem indifferent as she read through her Charms essay for editing purposes.

"But I thought you fancied him," Phoebe said absentmindedly. She was tying bows around her rats' neck. "You kissed him that night in Hogsmeade, after all."

"How do you know that?" Amelia inquired sharply, her head snapping in Phoebe's direction.

"I was there, don't you remember?" Phoebe countered simply.

"No…," Amelia replied, shaking her head slowly. "Not at all."

"Oh," Phoebe said brightly, preparing to explain. "Well, I was at the Three Broomsticks that day, with a few of the girls from our Transfiguration class…remember, we had that nasty test we were studying for? Anyway, I saw you storm out, and then I went and asked George Weasley where you'd gone off to when we were done studying. I was terribly worried, you really didn't look happy…then I remembered, that when you get too upset, you have an awful firewhiskey habit, so I decided to check at the Hog's Head to see if you'd gone and gotten yourself a drink, which you had…I didn't need to look far, because you were right outside of the Hog's Head, snogging Fred Weasley, which I thought was rather peculiar. But, when Fred saw me, he stopped snogging you, and called me over and we helped get you back to the dorms. You were awfully drunk, 'Melia, you could barely walk. I'm glad Fred caught you when he did, because lord knows what would've happened or who could've gotten to you while you were in such a state."

Amelia, who'd been holding her eyes wide open, blinked, finally.

"But…," she stumbled. "How did…how did Fred know I'd be there?"

Phoebe shrugged. "He said he just had an inkling, I dunno…some people are just intuitive like that, I suppose."

"Oh, Amelia, that's so romantic," Leanne sighed dreamily, clasping her hands together. She was not at all being sarcastic, which Amelia would've actually preferred.

"How on earth is that romantic, Leanne?" Amelia asked, sounding rather on-edge. "Please, enlighten me."

"I don't know," Leanne replied, shrinking away. "It just is."

"What's romantic?" Herb inquired, through a mouthful of candy, as he approached with Cedric.

"Nothing," Amelia said immediately. She was smart, to change the subject abruptly, as she asked, "Where've you two been?"

"Just out on the grounds with the other folks from the team," Herb replied, plopping down next to Leanne. By team, he meant the Quidditch team. "I called together a little practice, to get some of Ced's nerves calmed down. Besides, we all miss Quidditch, even with the excitement of the Tournament."

Cedric, who had not bothered to sit, checked his watch, and then announced, "Well, I'm off to see Cho. I promised her I'd help her with her Charms homework."

Amelia said nothing more than a goodbye with the rest of the gang, however it was odd that Cho Chang, the pyromaniac, needed help with Charms.


	17. The Second Task

**Chapter 17! I hope things get a little exciting here, they certainly did for me while writing it :)**

**As always, thanks for all the support, I appreciate it more than all of you lovely people could ever know! Remember, I love reviews, they're my lifeblood here on ...so can I be a bit annoying and ask to get it up to 25 reviews in the next 24 hours?**

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**Enjoy :D**

* * *

"Place your bets, place your bets here!"

"Put your money on the mystifying French beauty Fleur Delacour!"

"Or the sensational Seeker Viktor Krum!"

"Bet on one of the two Hogwarts Champions!"

"Does Potter stink or is Diggory the dinky one?!"

"Let us know by putting your money where your mouth is!" Fred and George finished in unison, as they walked through the stands of the students waiting for the Second Task to start.

The Second Task was already drastically different from the First Task. Instead of being on a modified version of the Quidditch field, this task was taking place in the middle of the Black Lake, where the teachers had conjured stands out in the deepest part of the water. Off a ways, was a center platform, for the judges and the champions, who were currently all at their starting places and listening to Ludo Bagman, looking rather nervous, as did Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. It was a chilly February day, and all the students there to observe were rather glad that they didn't have to go leap into the lake as they were guessing the champions had to.

While he and his brother made their way through the crowds, taking people's money for bets, Fred looked towards the section of Diggory supporters, clad in the bumblebee colors of Hufflepuff. No Amelia. He turned over his shoulder, to the red and yellow, Gryffindor-colored section of Potter supports, and failed to see her again. He looked somewhere in between, expecting to see her with Hermione, as she had been during the last task, but he didn't see Amelia, nor Hermione, nor his own brother Ron. Strange…

"You're looking for Amelia, aren't you?" came the flaky voice of Phoebe Hibbert. Fred turned to see her, and the two rats poking out of her thick Hufflepuff-colored scarf.

"Yeah," Fred nodded. "How'd you know?"

"I dunno, some people are just intuitive like that," she shrugged, not exactly answering the question. "But, you're not going to find her. She's Cedric's hostage."

"Hostage?" Fred asked, confused, as George poked into the conversation.

"Yes," Phoebe said, as if that was supposed to be a known fact. "The goal of this task is to retrieve what is most dear to you before the hour ends, from the bottom of the lake."

"So…you're telling me that Amelia's down at the bottom of the lake?" Fred inquired worriedly.

"Yes," Phoebe said, as yet another rat poked its head out of the pocket of her coat. "And Cedric has to rescue her by the end of the hour to complete the task. Ron, your brother, is down there as Harry's hostage, Hermione Granger is Krum's, and Fleur Delacour's little sister is down there for her."

"Well, what happens if he doesn't get her?" Fred asked, feeling his heart punching at his ribs.

"I don't know," Phoebe said.

Fred whipped around to George, and said, "If Diggory doesn't pull her up, I'll kill him."

* * *

The task began at Bagman's notice.

"Well, our champions are ready for the Second Task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, the. One…two…three!"

Bagman removed his wand from his throat, and a shrill whistle echoed through the air, as the stands erupted with cheers and applause and hollering.

On the champions' platform, everyone but Harry had leapt into the depths of the Black Lake, leaving him to pull off his shoes and socks and stuff something in his mouth. He began to wade into the water, shivering and wincing as he did so, which caused about half of the students in the stands to laugh at him, especially the Slytherins.

"What's wrong with him?" George asked, concerned as everyone watched Harry writhe, grabbing at his neck.

"Don't know, but it doesn't look good," Fred remarked, though all he could think about was Amelia at the bottom of the lake.

"Gillyweed," Neville Longbottom piped up from a few rows behind them. "I think he's used gillyweed!"

"What's gillyweed?" Seamus Finnigan inquired hastily.

"If you eat it, like Harry just did, it'll allow you to breathe underwater for around an hour," Neville informed him.

"Smart move," Dean Thomas remarked approvingly. "Harry's smarter than we thought."

After the first few minutes after watching the champions make their entrances into the lake, most of the spectators realized this wasn't exactly a spectator kind of event. No one had any idea how the champions were doing with their task, seeing that they were many, many feet below the surface. The chatter began, people guessing who'd come up first and all that sort of stuff, while Fred cracked his knuckles nervously, as he paced back and forth a bit.

"You'll wear a hole through the stands," George joked dryly. "Stop worrying."

"How can I stop worrying?" Fred asked. "If Diggory comes up without her, I'll kill him - just think of all the nasty things down there, there are grindylows and merepeople and bloody giant squid down there! If Diggory brings her up with even a scratch, I'll kill him, George, I will."

"Calm down there, Mr. Murder," George said playfully, setting a hand on Fred's shoulder. "I'm sure one of the professors will fetch her if the giant squid gets her."

"You're bloody hilarious," Fred muttered.

"I've been told," George winked. "It's a part of my reputation. But, really, calm down, mate. They're not in any real trouble down there, not with all the professors and blokes from the Ministry."

Fred rolled his eyes, and looked back to the water for any sign of anything, really. Each minute that ticked by seemed like an hour in and of itself, so waiting for the actual hour to pass was worse than watching Muggle paint dry.

The water began to ripple, but to Fred's disappointment, it was only Fleur, without her sister in tow. Hastily, the half-Veela girl swam into the judges' platform, where she was helped by a rather frantic Madame Maxime, who immediately smothered her champion in warm towels provided by Madame Pomfrey.

"She hasn't got her hostage!" someone hollered over the uproar of the Beauxbatons students. "That must mean she's disqualified - she didn't bring anyone up!"

Though the next few minutes were filled with feverish chatter about Fleur's failure to properly complete her task, and what that would mean in the big picture of the Tournament, Fred wasn't listening to any of it. He was scanning the lake's surface for any sign of Amelia and Diggory.

Within a minute, two heads popped up from the water, and Fred relaxed a bit, seeing that the heads did indeed belong to Amelia and Diggory. Diggory was up ahead a bit, doing his best to pull Amelia along through the water, while she was coughing up a ton of water, so much that Fred worried she'd actually, literally cough up a lung.

The Hufflepuff-colored crowd was deafeningly loud, watching and cheering on as Cedric pulled Amelia up onto the judges' platform. At first, Fred was surprised to see that Diggory wasn't revealing in the spotlight, but then he saw that Amelia was still choking and coughing and Diggory was beating her on the back trying to get her to get the water out, as Madame Pomfrey sprinted over.

"Where're you going?!" George asked, as Fred began to shove his way towards the judges' platform. Deciding to follow his brother, George added, "Wait!"

Amelia, balled up in Cedric's arms with Madame Pomfrey trying to charm the water out of her, continued to choke and sputter. She was shivering, still freezing from the icy water she'd been submerged in for what seemed like forever, and she'd swallowed more water than air in the past few minutes, which she just couldn't seem to cough up.

On top of that, she'd always had a phobia of water. An extreme phobia of water.

"Come on, Honeycutt, settle down," Madame Pomfrey urged. "I can't get the water out unless you calm down."

"You're okay, Amelia, listen to Madame Pomfrey," Cedric said soothingly, as he wrapped his own towel around her shoulders. "Try to calm down."

Amelia did her best to try to breathe, and suddenly, she felt the most odd sensation in her chest and throat. She watched, as Madame Pomfrey drew the water out of her mouth with her wand, and she was finally cleared of all the water she'd swallowed and inhaled.

"Ced," was the first word out of Amelia's mouth, as she turned to give him the biggest hug they'd shared in their lives, and he did the same to her.

They just sat there like that, on the judges' platform, soaking wet and freezing cold, for what seemed like less than a second and an entire eternity at the same time.

"You were brilliant, Ced," Amelia praised, giving him a kiss on either cheek. "Absolutely brilliant."

"Couldn't have done it without you, 'Melia," he replied seriously, but with a smile. "Honestly."

"Mr. Weasleys, what are you two doing here?! This is not a place for those who are not judges or champions!" scolded the unmistakable voice of McGonagall.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Professor!" George Weasley replied lightheartedly.

Upon glancing up, Amelia saw Fred rocketing towards her, and landing on his knees in front of her, looking over her face with grave concern. She stared back at him, still trying to catch her breath and to process all of the events that'd just happened, as she felt his hands on either of her cheeks, turning her face to look for injuries.

"You're alright?" Fred asked in a genuinely concerned voice, he tucked her wet honey-colored curls behind her ears, still inspecting her face.

"Never been better," Amelia replied with her trademark sarcasm.

Fred couldn't help but to chuckle.

"Nice job, Diggory," he then said, being as polite as he could while extending a handshake to the boy whose arms were still around Amelia.

"Thanks," Cedric nodded, with the faintest of smiles.

Fred rose and returned to his brother, who winked back at Amelia, just before Krum exploded from the water, shark head and all, with Hermione Granger in tow.

As soon as she landed on the platform, she ran to Amelia and threw her arms around the older girl in a hug. The girls laughed nervously, both extremely happy to see that the other had made it out safely.

Hermione and Amelia sat there, sharing a good number of towels and blankets, as Cedric went off to a congratulatory group of Hufflepuffs, including an annoyingly loud Herb, and Krum went off to Karkaroff and some other Durmstrang students. The two girls, however, were not done with their worrying - Harry had yet to surface with Ron, and Gabrielle Delacour was still somewhere down there.

"C'mon, Harry," Hermione whispered, nervously looking out over the water.

"You've got it," Amelia added, just as anxiously.

It seemed as if their prayers had been answered. Within a few moments, Ron and little Gabrielle Delacour surfaced, gasping for breath as the paddled towards the platform, followed by a just as breathless Harry seconds later.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?" burst Fleur, as she erupted from Madame Maxime's enormous arms.

"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.

"It was ze grindylows . . . zey attacked me ... oh Gabrielle, I thought... I thought.. ."

"Come here, you," said Madame Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and Amelia and wrapped him tightly in a blanket.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Yes, brilliant, Harry!" Amelia added. "You even saved Fleur's sister!"

"Well…," Harry mumbled. "Yeah, that's right."

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum, who re-entered the picture, as if to make sure Hermione wasn't paying too much attention to Harry. However, it was Krum she wasn't paying much attention to, since she simply brushed the beetle out of her hair and looked back to her friend.

Impatiently, Hermione went on, "You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry. . . . Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No…I found you okay," Harry replied, still trying to get over the shock, evidently.

The three of them then turned their attention to Dumbledore, who was in mid-conversation with one of the merepeople, before turning to the other judges and saying, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," said Harry.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek, then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped."

"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . .

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour."

Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Amelia leapt up and into Cedric's arms again, as they both laughed giddily and he swung her into the air. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

"First place!" Cedric cried with happiness, as he spun Amelia around again.

"You've done it!" she confirmed, as he set her back on her feet.

"All hail Diggory!" Herbert shouted, with a gesture for the others to repeat.

The Hufflepuff crowd then roared, "ALL HAIL DIGGORY!"

Interrupting their pow-wow, Bagman added, "The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

As the Hufflepuffs went wild again, Amelia looked back to Harry, and shot him a thumbs-up. He grinned back at her, before being engulfed by Ron and Hermione, and eventually the rest of the Gryffindors.

Two things were on Amelia's mind for the rest of the day.

1: There was still one more task, one bound to be more dangerous than the last two combined that Cedric would have to conquer.

2: The way Fred Weasley's fingers felt against her cheeks.


	18. Mexican Jumping Beans and Nargles

**Hello all! Sorry for the slightly late update and short chapter, but I wanted to give you a better look at Phoebe and her character. (Fun fact: The more of Phoebe I wrote, the more I realized how much she's like me. She loves rats, I love hamsters, for starters.) So, I hope this chapter provides that opportunity for you all to get to know her better :)**

**As always, thank you all for the support! It means the world to me! And, truly, reviews are my lifeblood here on , so maybe...if it's not asking too much...could we get those reviews up to 25 by tomorrow? It would really be fabulous!**

**And, if you have questions, any kind of questions for me or the characters, send them in for a Q&amp;A!**

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* * *

The next time that Cho Chang saw Amelia in Charms, she was back to not liking her. In fact, when Amelia went to ask her what was wrong after class, Cho didn't mind giving her a piece of her mind.

"I can't believe that you were his hostage," she ranted, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm his…girlfriend, after all, it should've been me."

"I didn't ask to do it, Cho," Amelia replied. As usual, she sounded calm and level-headed, which further infuriated Cho. "Trust me, I didn't volunteer to be chained unconscious at the bottom of the lake for an hour."

Unable to formulate a proper response, Cho merely made the "hmph!" sound effect before stomping back to Marietta Edgecombe, who gave Amelia a nasty glare as the two Ravenclaws disappeared down the corridor.

"She has a horrible temper, doesn't she?" Phoebe remarked, as a rat crawled over the top of her frizzy, dark hair.

"She's just upset," Amelia shrugged. She and Phoebe began their trek down the hall, and Amelia added, "I mean, I guess I get it, her being jealous…but there's nothing to be jealous of, we're friends, you know that, Phoebe."

"I know that," the rat fanatic nodded absentmindedly. "But how would you feel if the situation was flipped a bit - if Fred Weasley was a champion and, say Cho or some other girl was his hostage?"

"Fred Weasley?" Amelia asked, her voice going up an octave. "Phoebe, I don't…," then, she sighed and asked in a whisper, "Is it that obvious?"

"I don't know," Phoebe shrugged, stroking one of her half-murtlaps. "I guess I'm just intuitive like that."

"But everyone else assumes Ced and I are up to something," Amelia replied. "So…how'd you…?"

"I don't know, the way you two look at each other," Phoebe said. "Cedric looks at you that way sometimes, but you never look at Cedric like that, you only ever look at Fred Weasley like that. I thought you'd go for George at first, but after that night by the Hog's Head, I knew it wasn't George, but Fred."

Amelia stared at Phoebe for what seemed like quite some time. She'd tried to figure Phoebe out for years, to no avail. She knew Phoebe loved rats, was a bit odd, had a brain to match her own, spoke her mind with free abundance, didn't care what people thought of her, and never wore matching socks. But, why she did and was all of those things? Amelia could never put that together, like she could put together Cedric or Leanne or Herbert or Heidi.

"I guess you're just intuitive like that," Amelia quoted, with a faint smile.

"I suppose," Phoebe nodded, without a smile. "People just fascinate me; I like watching. Not in a creepy way, I mean…I like rats in the same kind of way, except rats aren't mean like people. They'll only bite you if provoked. People bite without reason…and people have magic."

Once again, Amelia smiled at Phoebe while staring at her. This is why Amelia was so drawn to Phoebe Hibbert - her odd wisdom.

"Chocolate Frog?" Phoebe then inquired, seemingly out of nowhere pulling the candy from her robes.

"Er, no thanks," Amelia responded politely.

"Alright," Phoebe replied with a mouthful of chocolate. Amelia didn't mind Phoebe's rats, but she did cringe a bit when she broke of a piece and fed it to the rat that was currently on her shoulder. "Ready for Divination?"

"Ready as I'll be," sighed Amelia. "I just hope Trelawney's in a better mood today than she was last time. I don't want to hear how I'm supposedly supposed to die again."

The two girls and the multiple rats proceeded to climb up to the Divination room, where they took their seats together at the table next to the one Leanne and Heidi had already claimed. The room smelled of perfume, much to Phoebe's apparent distaste, seeing that she crinkled her nose immediately upon entrance. Tendrils of smoke rose from the fire and into the chimney, as Trelawney wandered out from behind one of the window drapes, pushing her wild hair out from over her enormous spectacles.

"Today, my dears, we will be gazing into the crystal balls I have placed on your desk," Trelawney said airly. "Please record your observations onto parchment or into your dream journals, and make sure to have a look at the future of your partner. You may begin."

As Trelawney wandered to answer the question of a couple of Ravenclaw girls, Amelia felt something hit her in the back of the head. She turned, to see the Slytherins laughing a few rows behind her, and a balled up piece of parchment at bottom of her chair, which she reluctantly picked up and uncrumpled. She read, DIGGORY'S DARLING DOORMAT - HOPE YOU DON'T COUGH UP YOUR OTHER LUNG, THAT'D BE A SHAME.

Amelia simply rolled her eyes. A few Slytherin idiots really weren't worth it.

"You see anything in the stupid ball, Pheebs?" Amelia inquired, dropping her chin in her palm. "Anything exciting in my future?"

"Hm, I don't think so," Phoebe groaned. She scrutinized the crystal ball, glanced at her textbook, and then said sarcastically, "Unless you think buying Mexican jumping beans is particularly exhilarating."

Amelia chuckled at Phoebe's dry humor, as she scrutinized the ball, and then joked, "Well…all I can see in here is fog…maybe that means your brain's been foggy."

"An astute observation, 'Melia," Phoebe laughed. "I bet its the nargles."

"Nargles?" Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"Nevermind."

"Dears, what have you observed so far?" Trelawney inquired, bowing over their table.

"I'm going to buy Mexican jumping beans, and Phoebe's got nargles," Amelia told her, sounding ridiculously serious, so much that Phoebe couldn't help but to snigger.

"Oh, no!" Trelawney exclaimed. She bent over the crystal ball, looking at it with her bug-like eyes, and said, "Amelia, dear, that doesn't mean Mexican jumping beans…that means death."

"Oh, great, when am I going to die?" Amelia asked sarcastically.

"Not you, my dear," Trelawney corrected. "Someone very important in your life."

Amelia's immediate thought was Cedric, but knowing that Trelawney was just an old fraud, she quickly brushed it off.

"And Phoebe, my dear," continued the Professor. "Yours does not predict nargles, rather, a secret admirer."

Trelawney left, and as soon as her back was turned, the two Hufflepuff girls erupted in laughter.


	19. The Balcony

**Chapter 19!**

**As always I have to thank you guys for all the support - it truly does mean the world to me. And remember, I love reviews, so please keep them up and don't be afraid to send me a review or a question or anything! Reviews are truly my lifeblood here on !**

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* * *

There were particular moments when Amelia was especially happy that she'd been made a Prefect, and those moments were when she could abuse those Prefect privileges.

She was on her regular patrol, to make sure that none of the other students were out past their bedtimes, wand at the ready, prepared to hex any mischievous Slytherins that had the misfortune of crossing her path at the wrong time.

She was leaning over a small balcony, one that many students never even discovered, that provided a view of one of the hallways frequently used by students that liked to sneak around and avoid professors while doing so. She could hear voices coming down the hallway, and she chewed her lip in excitement, more than eager to make a Slytherin turn Hufflepuff yellow or sprout exploding (yet painless) facial boils.

"Up to no good, Honeycutt?" came a voice that scared Amelia so badly she nearly jumped out of her pants. But, she knew who it was - Fred Weasley.

"Whoa, no need to pull a wand on us!" chimed in a second voice, the voice of George Weasley, who held his hands up mock-criminal fashion with his twin as Amelia whipped around to them.

"You two need to make your presence known a bit earlier," she mumbled trying to catch her breath through her grin. "Scared the shit out of me, there."

"We noticed," George nodded.

"Anyway, what's the prank we're doing?" Fred asked.

"Nothing specific," Amelia shrugged, looking out over the balcony again. "Just waiting to hex any Slytherins out past curfew."

"Lovely," Fred grinned. He came up next to Amelia, and placed his hands on the rail of the balcony, and added, "And if I'm not mistaken, I think I hear Malfoy and his goons coming."

"I think you're correct," Amelia agreed.

She briefly turned her her head to grin at him, but found him closer to her than she expected, and an involuntary blush spread on her cheeks. She turned away, embarrassed, but Fred was grinning, smirking, more like it.

"Am I making you blush, Honeycutt?" he asked playfully.

"You wish, Weasley," she replied sarcastically, unable to make eye contact.

"Young love," remarked George sarcastically. "I'll leave you two to it."

"George, you don't have to…," Amelia protested, but by the time she turned, he'd already gone.

"Look, here they are!" Fred told her, prodding her with his elbow. "Time to see your brilliance in action."

"Fine, fine," Amelia mumbled.

She concentrated her mind as she always did, and aimed her wand at the amazingly obnoxious fourth year Malfoy and his two ape-like goons. A flash of gold light erupted from her wand, and when it flashed out, Malfoy's nose was growing a good three inches a second, and one of the goons was now sporting long tendrils of nose hair while the other's eyebrows were growing out of control.

While the younger Slytherins panicked down below, looking around like mad for whoever had done it, Fred and Amelia were doing their best to keep their laughter down.

"Which one of you did that?!" Malfoy exclaimed, looking angrily at his two baboon friends.

"I didn't do it!" exclaimed the one with the wild eyebrows.

"Crabbe!" Malfoy scolded, punching the one with the nose hair in the shoulder. "What's wrong with you?!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!" the one called Crabbe hollered. "Why'd I hex myself if it was me?"

"I don't know, I'd just like my nose to quit growing!" Malfoy screamed, exasperated.

They all continued to quarrel and punch each other madly, as Fred and Amelia continued to snicker from their place up in the balcony. Fred then apparently sparked an idea, as he put his finger over his lips in a gesture for Amelia to stay quite, as he tossed a couple of wrapped candies down over the balcony. He then crouched back down beside her, watching through the slots in the rail.

"Don't eat those!" Malfoy bellowed as his goons scrambled for the candy Fred had thrown. "How thick are you two, eating things off the floor?!"

However, it was too late, because they'd already devoured whatever it was that Fred had thrown down at them, and on top of their crazy eyebrows and nose hairs, their tongues were now growing a mile a minute. Fred and Amelia were now really struggling to hold in their laughter, as Malfoy dragged his two cronies by the scruff of their necks towards the direction of the hospital wing, while the three of them continued to quarrel and attempt to punch each other, which was quite the sight with all of their facial abnormalities.

"What were those?" Amelia asked through her laughter, after the younger hexed Slytherins were out of sight and earshot.

Taking another from his pocket, Fred waggled it playfully before her face, as he smirked, "Ton-Tongue Toffee. George and I invented them last summer."

"Brilliant," Amelia nodded. "Suited them. I think they really looked better after we were done with them."

"I have to agree with you there, Honeycutt," Fred replied. "Almost anything would make those gits look better."

Realizing how Fred was looking at her, Amelia stood up rather suddenly, and dusted her hands off against her robes.

"Well…er, g'night, then," she mumbled, started to head off.

"Wait," Fred called, causing her to halt.

She turned slowly, and before she knew it, she and Fred were snogging once again.

She wanted to turn and bolt, but more of her liked what she was doing all too well. It was like the world ceased around her, and it was just her and Fred, on the little balcony, and as far as she was concerned, she could've stayed in that moment for an eternity.

Then, it clicked, or something clicked, and she shoved him off.

"G'night, Fred," she said, turning away quickly once again.

Just before she was out of earshot, she heard him say, "I'm not giving up on you, Honeycutt."

* * *

"Been working on your dream journal at all?" inquired Phoebe, as Amelia sat next to her in the common room.

"Just been making stuff up," shrugged Amelia. Three of Phoebe's rats were on the table, eating seeds out of a cup. "I have to wonder what Trelawney will make of all the stuff I've written."

Phoebe nodded, absentmindedly messing with one of the feathers in her hair. It wasn't unusual for Phoebe to have feathers and twigs and things in her already wild hair. She liked to be close with the creatures and forest, sometimes, a bit too close, if you asked others.

"What're you so happy about?" Phoebe asked, noticing the residual smile on her friend's face.

"Who's happy about what?" came Cedric's voice, as he crawled through the round door from the hallway. His hair was very messy, something which was very unusual for him.

"You been out snogging Cho?" Amelia asked with a smirk, as Cedric drew a chair.

"Maybe," Cedric replied, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"She really hates me," Amelia sighed. "I tried to be nice to her, since I figured that I'd be in your wedding…but seeing as she hates me, I doubt I'll even get an invite."

"Oh, she's not that bad," Cedric brushed off. "Besides, its not exactly like Fred Weasley likes me."

Amelia's cheeks flared up as she glared at Cedric, and then asked, "What does Fred Weasley have to do with any of this?"

"C'mon, Amelia," Cedric urged. "You may be a champion liar, but it's way too obvious that there's something going on between you two. You think I didn't notice? I'm your best mate, I'm supposed to notice things that like."

"See, Ced's intuitive like that as well," Phoebe chimed in, stroking one of her rats. "We're intuitive people."

"Well, that, and Cho and I walked by while you two were snogging on the balcony," Cedric smirked.

Then, Phoebe said something that was very out of character, as she asked, "When's the wedding, Amelia?"

Jumping at his chance to retaliate, Cedric inquired, "Oh, yeah, when is it? Think Fred'll let me be the best man, or has George already claimed that spot? Can I be in the bridal party?"

Rising to her feet, embarrassed, with crimson cheeks, Amelia said, "You're both horrible."

And she stormed off to her bed, grinning about the memory of what'd happened on the balcony.


	20. Mrs Fairfax's Tale

**Not the most exciting chapter, I realize, but I wanted to give a bit of foreshadowing and backstory at the same time. **

**Thanks again for all the support, it really does mean the world to me! Again, reviews are my lifeblood, so please keep them coming...please :) Also any questions you have for me or the characters are welcome. **

**Anyway...Enjoy :)**

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Amelia made a very conscious effort to avoid Fred Weasley at all costs. She didn't know if it was just her nerves, or if she had some sort of fear with the idea that there was indeed something more than friendship there, but either way, she was not ready to face him any time soon.

She was also avoiding Leanne, Heidi, Cedric, and Herbert, because their teasing had become incessant and unbearable. It wasn't that they were being mean, it was just that they were being unbearably annoying and she had not been in the mood to deal with any of it as of late. So, she was going to find the one person that hadn't been too obnoxious in the past few days - Phoebe, who was becoming a much better friend this year and more and more of a refuge from everything else going on in Amelia's life.

So, it was Amelia and Phoebe who'd paired off that day to go to Hogsmeade. Cedric had taken Cho to Madame Puddifoot's again, where they were actually going on a 'double date' with Leanne and Herb. That was easy enough, if they were all together in a place Amelia had less than no interest in, it'd be easier to avoid them all.

However, Fred could pop up anywhere.

The two Hufflepuff girls picked a corner booth in the Three Broomsticks, where Phoebe paid for their butterbeers, despite all of Amelia's protesting.

"Phoebe, you have twigs in your hair," Amelia informed her friend, feeling as though that was the helpful and polite thing to say.

"Oh, I know," Phoebe nodded. One of her rats, fast asleep in the breast pocket of her denim jacket that was just as ratty as Amelia's, stirred, its long tail swinging out. "I was helping Professor Hagrid with the Skrewts this morning, and one of them blasted me into a bush. I'm quite alright though."

Amelia couldn't help but to grin. She figured that Professor Hagrid and Phoebe Hibbert were the only two people in the entire world that could find any charming qualities in a creature as horrible as a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Out of the blue, Phoebe looked to Amelia, and said, "Things are changing. They're going to change more, y'know."

"Alright, slow down there, Trelawney," Amelia joked with a wink.

"No, no, I'm serious, 'Melia," Phoebe said.

"Well, everyone seems to have started the dating game this year…," Amelia mused. "And you've gotten more rats…"

"Besides those things," Phoebe persisted. "Things are changing, I can just feel it. The rats can feel it too."

"Okay, Pheebs," Amelia nodded skeptically.

As expected, Phoebe's words sounded strange to Amelia, but she couldn't deny that she had the same sort of sense too. There was just some kind of anticipation of something that was hanging in the air…maybe it was because of the Triwizard Tournament, but Amelia didn't feel that was it, or at least, only it. She knew Phoebe was right in a strange sense, but she didn't want to believe it.

"You believe me, though," Phoebe then said, her striking sea-green eyes widening. "I can tell."

"I guess," Amelia admitted. She felt an uncomfortable sort of stirring sensation in the pit of her gut, which was somehow worse than the stone feeling she'd become accustomed to feeling around the time of the Tasks. "I do."

A million and one different horrible scenarios flashed through her brain, of Cedric horribly mutilated from the Tournament, or the terrifying dementors returning again, and maybe even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning…if that ever happened, she'd be a goner, being Muggle-born…

No, no, she then thought, shoving all those images out of her head. Stop being foolish.

During the silence that then took over between the two girls, Amelia glanced around the busy pub nervously. It was pretty packed. She was still paranoid about running into Ced, Leanne or Herb, even if she knew that they were most definitely at Madame Puddifoot's and that she had nothing to worry about. However, running into Fred Weasley was still an enormous possibility, and she still wasn't ready to face him just yet, even if she knew that she should've been at this point.

She happened to glance over at the door, and saw a face that'd been familiar to her her entire life - the face of kind of Mrs. Fairfax, who ran the orphanage Amelia had been in most of her life.

For some odd reason, Amelia's heart started pounding. Mrs. Fairfax was a part of the Muggle world, the non-magical one she lived in during summers when she wasn't staying with the Diggorys; Mrs. Fairfax was definitely not a part of the wizarding world. She wasn't supposed to be in Hogsmeade, wandering into the Three Broomsticks in her ancient gray wool coat and straw hat with flowers sticking out of it. She just wasn't.

Amelia's eyes stayed glued to the old lady, who had been like a grandmother and a mother to her during her fifteen years, as she took a seat at a table next to another elderly witch in lush violet robes, whom she seemed to be very friendly with.

"Are you alright?" Phoebe inquired, momentarily breaking Amelia out of her trance. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not…not a ghost," Amelia shook her head. "See that lady over there, in the flowered hat?"

"Yes…," replied Phoebe, craning her neck a bit. "What about her?"

"That's the lady who runs the…er, home that I stay in," Amelia informed her. "I have no idea why she's here…"

"Well, is she a witch?" Phoebe asked.

"Not that I know of," Amelia said. "But I've got to go ask her now."

Though her heart was pounding, she found a sudden surge of confidence, as she approached the woman she'd known as a simple Muggle her entire life.

"Mrs. Fairfax?" Amelia burst in rather awkwardly, after the violet-robed witch went to the loo.

"Ah, Amelia, dear," Mrs. Fairfax greeted in her usual warm tone. "Have a seat."

"What're you doing here?" Amelia asked. "Are you…are you…a witch?"

"Of course I am, darling," Mrs. Fairfax replied very matter-of-factly, as if Amelia should've known this her entire life. "I'm sorry I hadn't told you earlier, I know I probably should have. Then again, I am getting old, and my mind is starting to slip…dear, please sit, I'll buy you a hot chocolate and explain."

A bit in shock, Amelia obeyed, and accepted the hot chocolate that came whizzing into her hands in a cream-colored mug. She still wasn't exactly processing the information that Mrs. Fairfax was a witch, just like she was, and had never bothered to tell her, but she knew she wanted to hear the story.

"You see, dear, I went to Hogwarts too, many, many years ago…in fact, I was in Hufflepuff as well, just like you…anyhow, that's neither here nor there, because after graduating I decided that I loved children so much and wanted to help them so much, so I opened my own orphanages for the poor dears without homes and families, magical and Muggle children alike," Mrs. Fairfax explained, sipping her tea with a nostalgic glint in her gray eyes. "That's how I met your mother, after all."

"What do you mean?" Amelia inquired, confused. She'd always assumed she'd just been dropped off on the doorstep, not that Mrs. Fairfax knew either of her parents.

"Your mother was left to be in my care, after her parents found out that she was a Squib," Mrs. Fairfax continued. Amelia was silent, wanting to absorb all of the information that she possible could. "You see, they were a very popular and well-known family, and purebloods, they were. The Hathorne family. They'd had suspicious about your mother, their youngest, Callie, for some time, and when she didn't get her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, their suspicions were confirmed - she was a Squib. So, they left the girl on my doorstep, and barely even said goodbye…the poor dear was in tears, it took days to get her to stop crying."

"Callie, your mother, was a sweet girl. So, so sweet…always helping out with the other children however she could, much like you, dear…when she was a teenager, though she got a bit of a rebellious streak, as teenagers do…but, by law at the time, she was old enough, so despite how worried I was when she disappeared before Christmas, there was nothing I could do. I was especially worried with all the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named business happening at the time, I feared they'd come after her, with her condition and all, they were trying to get rid of people like her…but she came back in the thick of it, late the following summer, with you."

"She begged me to keep you, to keep you safe…she didn't know what'd happen to you, with all the rest of the things happening at the time. She was sure that you were a magical child, and she feared that her parents or siblings would be after you…she'd didn't know if they'd kill you, or something else horrible, they were all in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and she said your father was a Muggle. So, I kept you as well, and raised you, like I did your mother."

Amelia stared at the gray-eyed old woman, in total and utter disbelief, as she tried to place the string of events together in her mind.

Her mother was a Squib, born to a pureblood, Death Eater family, who she'd be rejected by. Mrs. Fairfax had raised her. She ran off with a Muggle bloke as a teen, and came back with Amelia, and then….disappeared?

"I'm sorry to load all of this on you," Mrs. Fairfax said genuinely, laying a blue-veined hand on top of Amelia's. "I'm sure this must all be very hard for you, dear."

"Um….yeah," Amelia mumbled, still in a daze.

"And I'm sorry, but I've got to run," Mrs. Fairfax added, adjusting the strap of her leather purse as she rose. With a smile, she informed Amelia, "I'm here for lunch with my nephew, Ludo Bagman. I'm sure you've seen him around for the Tournament, huh? Well, if you need me, send an owl - I'm sure you've got plenty of questions."

With that, Mrs. Fairfax disappeared into the sea of people in the pub, leaving Amelia with more to process than she'd ever had to in her life.


	21. Family Tree

**Chapter 21!**

**As always, thanks for all the support, faves, follows, and reviews! I appreciate it all, really, more than you'll ever know! And I especially appreciate reviews, which are my lifeblood here on so really, don't be afraid to drop one off! Leave anything for me to read, including questions for me or any of the characters!**

**Thanks again!**

**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

Amelia spent most of the next day nose-deep in a book about the history of wizarding families, in a secluded page of the library. She read:

_**The Hathorne Family**_

_An Ancient and Most Noble Wizarding Family_

_Notable Members Include, but are not limited to:_

_Bellona Q. Hathorne, Seventh Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Elita P. Hathorne, Minister of Magic, 1903-1928_

_Aloysius M. Hathorne, International Ambassador for the Ministry of Magic, 1943-1969_

She turned the page, and then again, barely able to hold her breath.

She'd found the page that had the most modern family tree.

Lucretius Xavier Hathorne m. Zinnia Frances Garrod

b. 1927 - 1980 b. 1933 - 1980

Slytherin House, Hogwarts Ravenclaw House, Hogwarts

And their Children

Cassius Alexander Hathorne Magnus Horatio Hathorne Calliope Frances Hathorne

b. 1957 - b. 1959 - b. 1961 -

Slytherin House, Hogwarts Slytherin House, Hogwarts

Amelia felt breathless - it had to be her mother, right there, on paper. Callie was a logical nickname choice for Calliope, and the name was crossed out….probably because she was disowned for being a Squib. It all made sense….and, Amelia's own middle name was Frances.

Her head was spinning; she couldn't imagine a more hectic time in her life to discover all of this. There was Cedric and the Tournament, the regular business that all fifth year students had to do for planning their future, and whatever it was that she had with Fred Weasley, and now, she finally got some clue about her family and their past.

Some people just couldn't get timing right.

"Amelia?" came a voice, startling her. Slamming the book shut, Amelia's head snapped up, and she saw Hermione Granger standing before her, a pile of books in arm. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, just fine, thanks, Hermione," Amelia replied, trying to sound normal and not flustered as she truly felt.

"You look a bit stressed," Hermione commented, looking over the Hufflepuff girl with obvious concern.

"Just being a fifth year," Amelia shrugged with a smile. "You'll figure it out next year."

"Oh, right, I'm sure," Hermione nodded with some realization spreading over her face. "O.W.L.s and all…."

"Mhm," nodded Amelia. "You can sit, y'know."

"Oh, thanks, but I've actually got to go," Hermione apologized. She looked genuine in her apology. "I promised I'd help Harry and Ron write their Charms papers….I'm awfully sorry."

"Not a problem," Amelia assured her. Internally, though, Amelia was kind of disappointed she wouldn't get a chance to get to know Hermione better. "See you, then."

"Right, see you….," Hermione said vaguely. She turned to go, but then turned back, to add, "And, I know I've told you this, but thanks. For everything."

"No problem, Hermione," Amelia assured her humbly.

"And give Fred a chance, will you?" Hermione asked with a bit of a grin. "He's really going mad."

"Sure," Amelia nodded with a grin of her own. "For you, Hermione, I will. Just for you."

"Bye," Hermione laughed.

"Bye."

Sighing, Amelia flipped open the book to the page where her mother's name had been crossed out, and tore it out of the book, folding it neatly and then tucking it in the pocket of her jeans. She'd have to look at it again later, and check out the library again for any other clues or information that she could find.

She exited the library, without a particular plan or idea of what she was going to do next, but she knew that she was in trouble when she saw Herb, Cedric, and the rest of the Hufflepuff team shooting off towards the lake on their brooms.

"Bloody hell," she grumbled, knowing she ought to follow them. She didn't need Herb killing Cedric, that's what the Tournament was for.

Shaking her head, she hurried off out of the castle and towards the long stretch of grass by the lake where they were now zooming around.

"Hey!" screamed Amelia, up at the seven Hufflepuffs on their broomsticks. "What in Merlin's beard are you doing?!"

Chuckling, Herbert pulled to a stop just above Amelia, and replied, "We're helping Cedric blow off some steam! Just going to practice a bit, Malcolm even set up the goals!"

Glancing around, she saw that Malcolm Preece had indeed set up goals, which Herb proceeded to get in position in front of - he was Keeper, after all. She rolled her eyes.

"Out of all the things you could be doing, Cedric, you really think playing Quidditch is the most important?!" Amelia hollered.

"I'm blowing off steam, 'Melia!" Cedric yelled back at her with a grin. "You heard Herb! You could be playing with us if you weren't afraid of heights!"

"You're impossible, Diggory!" she laughed.

"Hey, Amelia, would you mind sticking around?" asked Heidi, one of the team's Chasers. She already had a Quaffle under her arm. "You're the best with Healing, so we'd appreciate it if you were on standby if one of us got hurt!"

"Er, sure," Amelia grumbled. She didn't want to, but she also didn't want anyone to crack open their skull. "Just what I wanted to do with my afternoon."

With another grumble, and a sigh, she took a seat on the nearest rock and folded her arms over her chest. She watched the Hufflepuff team "practice" half-heartedly. She'd never understood Quidditch and she was convinced she never would. Over her years at Hogwarts, Cedric had tried to explain the game to her, to no avail. Still, she went to every Quidditch game for him. She knew it meant a lot to him to have her support.

Needless to say, watching an unofficial "practice" on the shores of the lake was not Amelia's favorite thing to be doing.

"Incoming, Hufflepuffs!" hollered an all-too-familiar voice, as two others whizzed by on brooms.

"Watch your heads!" hollered another.

Suddenly, all kinds of explosions were happening - bangs, booms and pops, all accompanied by a brilliant display of fireworks, causing the improvised Quidditch practice to come to a screeching halt. All of the Hufflepuffs had froze in mid air on their brooms, staring slack-jawed in awe at the fireworks around them. Amelia, still on her rock, smirked and shook her head. She recognized the two red-headed culprits that were soaring over their fireworks, exchanging high-fives. Fred and George, who else?

The twins did a glory lap around the Hufflepuffs, who were now applauding, all very impressed by the display. Amelia just continued her smirk as she shook her head, before the two Weasleys landed their brooms in front of her.

"Impressed, love?" Fred asked with a smirk to match Amelia's.

"They're still in the prototype stage," George said, grinning himself. "But we figured we'd try them out."

"They're fabulous," Amelia replied playfully. "Just great."

"Thanks," they winked in unison.

"And the newest edition to the Weasley, Weasley and Honeycutt line of products," George told her. "Along with your Electric Shock Shake gloves, we're really building up our stock."

"So you named them," Amelia chuckled. "Tried those third year, on one of the Slytherin girls….great day…."

"And it'll be an even greater day when we're up to our necks in galleons in profit," George said.

"Anyway, care to come for a ride, Honeycutt?" Fred inquired, changing the subject. With a playfulness to his tone, he added, "I promise, it'll be loads more exciting than watching this sad excuse for Quidditch."

Just as he said that, Heidi launched a Quaffle at his head, which missed by barely an inch.

"Aw, don't take it personally!" Fred hollered with a smile. "I'm just trying to persuade my girlfriend into letting me steal her!"

"Oh, I'm your girlfriend now, am I?" Amelia grinned, raising her eyebrows.

"I dunno," Fred shrugged. "Are you going to stop ignoring me?"

"I dunno," Amelia countered. "Are you asking me on a date or have you already decided that I'm your girlfriend?"

"You're good at playing games, Honeycutt," Fred responded. "Now, c'mon, hop on here. I can't wait around forever."

"You want me to get on that broom with you?" Amelia asked, her smile fading though her eyebrows rose even higher. "Er….no…."

"You're not scared, are you?" Fred inquired, now slightly amused. She glared at him, and he laughed, then saying, "By Godric, you're scared!"

"Come off it!" she hollered, jumping to her feet to punch him good on the shoulder.

"I've got you now," he chuckled, grabbing her by the wrist lightly. He tugged her just so, so that she landed on the broom behind him, and then told her, "You better hold on tight, Honeycutt."

Before she knew it, the broom jerked beneath her, and she was off. In fact, she nearly fell off, but with a squeal, she threw her arms somewhere around Fred's middle, and prayed to Merlin for dear life. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, not daring to open them and see how high up they were, as she felt the cold wind race against her cheeks and through her loose hair, which was in good need of a good shampooing at the moment. However, she hadn't thought about shampooing her hair, especially with all the family research she'd been doing lately.

"Open your eyes!" Fred yelled back at her. "C'mon, I'm not going to push you off!"

"No!" Amelia hollered, hanging onto him even tighter as she felt the broom heave upwards. "No way!"

"Do it, Honeycutt!" he screamed. "Open your eyes now!"

Just as she'd felt the broom jerk upwards, she now felt it descending rapidly. She was scared out of her wits, but something in her suddenly trusted Fred, and her eyes popped open, to find herself soaring over the Black Lake. Something about it was surprisingly beautiful, with the view of the lake, the forest and the Hogwarts castle from this height.

And she laughed. She laughed, and Fred laughed, and for a good moment, she forgot about June 24th and the family tree stuffed in her pocket.


	22. Rat Burial

**So, sorry for the slight delay in the publication in this chapter, I've been busy with school and activities and whatnot...also, my beloved little hamster friend Javier passed away yesterday :(**

**Anyhow, as always thanks for the support, and especially thank you for the reviews. Don't be afraid to drop one off, or ask questions to me, the author, or any of the characters. **

**Here it is...enjoy :)**

* * *

That morning, Amelia woke up to the sound of sobs, the kind of sobs that whoever was sobbing was trying to hide, with many sniffles. Rolling over, Amelia yawned, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up, seeing Phoebe sitting up in her bed, crying over something in her hands.

"Pheebs," Amelia said, now worried, as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. "Everything alright?"

"N-no," sniffled Phoebe. Her bedhead was monstrous, something Amelia noticed as she watched Phoebe wipe her nose on the back of her hand. "Fernando….Fernando's d-dead, 'Melia."

Amelia took a couple of steps towards Phoebe, and for sure, she saw that she was holding a very, very dead tawny colored rat. The small animal was limp, on its back, cupped in Phoebe's hands, which were covered in nips from the other rats and ink blots and chipping Hufflepuff black and yellow nailpolish.

"Oh, wow," Amelia said. She was pretty disgusted at the sight of a dead rat that Phoebe seemed to be so very upset over, but decided to be there for Phoebe rather than be disgusted. She put a comforting arm around Phoebe's shoulders, and said, "I'm so sorry, Phoebe. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, no," Phoebe mumbled, lovingly stroking the dead rat's exposed belly. "I know they don't live forever….I know it's life and death, but that doesn't mean I have to like it…."

As if they knew, Phoebe's other rats crawled up around her and onto her shoulders, like they were trying to comfort her. And for the first time, Amelia kind of understood why Phoebe liked rats so much.

"Do you want….to bury him?" Amelia inquired kindly.

"That'd be nice," Phoebe mumbled, nodding. "I'll bury him with the others."

"Others….?" Amelia asked.

"Oh, yes," Phoebe said. "With all the rats I've had….well, it only makes sense that some would die, hm? Well, I suppose….no one's ever noticed before…."

From there, Amelia helped Phoebe out of the dormitories, and the two ran into Cedric, who was studying up for the next task by the fire. He was clearly just as disgusted as Amelia at the sight of a dead rat, but he was also just as kind as Amelia, so he went along with the two girls to support Phoebe.

Still in their pajamas, the three stopped into one of the greenhouses, where they retrieved a small shovel, and from there, Cedric and Amelia followed Phoebe. She led them to a corner of the grounds, on the edge of the forest, where neither of them had ever been before. To their surprise, there were many tiny headstones, with various names and dates engraved on them. Amelia realized Phoebe was telling the truth - she'd created a rat graveyard out here.

Cedric and Amelia watched from a bit of a distance, as Phoebe fell to her knees in the dewy grass, and dug a fairly deep hole with the small shovel. She mumbled some incoherent words that sounded rather loving, ran her finger over the rat's slender snout, and then wrapped it in a bit of gauze she pulled from her pocket, before lovingly placing him in the dirt. Wiping her tears, she then began to cover the hole with the dirt.

"Would you like us to say a few words?" Amelia asked quietly.

"No, it's alright," Phoebe said, with a hint of a weak smile. "I appreciate it, but it's alright. Thanks, though."

From there, Phoebe used her wand to engrave a headstone for the newly buried rat, and Cedric and Amelia exchanged a small look.

Within a minute, Phoebe stood, sighing, as she wiped her face again, before saying, "Well, I'd rather be burying a rat than a person, I suppose."

"I'll agree with you there," Cedric nodded, dropping an arm around her shoulders, as did Amelia from the other side. "Now, c'mon, we've got to get dressed and have breakfast. But we're here for you, Pheebs."

"Thanks, guys," Phoebe said, nearly crying again, as if she didn't realize they were all friends before that moment. "It does mean a lot….and I don't mean to be rude here, but would you mind if I had a moment alone?"

"Oh, sure," Amelia agreed. "Just know….if you need us…."

"I know," Phoebe replied with a slight grin. "I'll see you in class, Amelia, and you at dinner Cedric, alright?"

"Sure," Cedric and Amelia nodded, nearly in unison.

With that, the two of them started back towards the castle, leaving Phoebe to mourn privately in her rat cemetery.

"Do you plan on going to class in your pajamas, Honeycutt?" came the unmistakable voice of Fred Weasley. "Personally, I don't mind, but I don't know how some of the professors would feel about it."

"You're hilarious," Amelia replied sarcastically, turning to face him. He and George were already in their robes with the Gryffindor patch.

"That's what we do," Fred responded. "If we don't liven this place up, who will? Not everyone is as comfortable handling dungbombs as often as we do."

"Somehow, I think that's a good thing," Amelia smirked.

"Er, I'll see you later," Cedric said to Amelia, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'll save you a seat at breakfast."

"Alright, thanks, Ced," Amelia replied.

"I think I might have to throw a few dungbombs at Diggory later," Fred remarked, as he slipped an arm around Amelia's waist. Playfully, she tried to wriggle away, but he really had a grip on her.

"Why?" she asked. She didn't know how she felt about the fact that she really happened to like his arm around her waist.

"Because he still fancies you," George piped up. "I thought you were more observant than that, Amelia."

"He never fancied me," Amelia replied defensively. "Friends, how many times do I have to explain that to everyone?"

"Friends don't look at friends like that, love," Fred told her. "Trust me."

"And why do you care anyway?" she asked sharply.

"Well, you're my girlfriend, aren't you?" Fred asked rhetorically with a wink. "I can't just let other blokes look at my girlfriend like that."

"I'm not your girlfriend," Amelia stated, finally managing to wriggle out of his grasp. "You git."

Amelia expected him to fight back, or say something, anything would've done, but instead, he kissed her. Practically started snogging her right there in the middle of one of the busier Hogwarts corridors, eliciting whoops and hollers from passing students. For the first few moments, Amelia didn't even hear them, she so was wrapped up in kissing Fred, but when she realized they were in one of the busier hallways and she was in her pajamas and everyone was watching, she shoved him off of her.

Looking around, she saw a circle of students around them applauding, and still whooping and hollering, and a good amount of boys who looked disturbingly euphoric.

"What's your middle name?" Fred asked in a low voice.

"Frances, why?" Amelia muttered, her face crimson as she looked at the crowd around her.

Clearing his throat, Fred dropped to one knee, as if he was proposing, and Amelia never recalled feeling more girlishly giddy and embarrassed at the same time.

"Amelia Frances Honeycutt," Fred bellowed, causing everyone else to shut up. "Will you, do me, Fred Weasley, the honor of calling yourself my girlfriend?"

"Fine," Amelia muttered, unable to suppress her grin at this point. "Fine, yes, alright?"

The crowd whooped and hollered even louder now, as Fred came back to his feet and kissed her briefly once again.

"Was that so hard?" he asked with a lopsided smirk.

"Terribly," she replied playfully. Not caring anymore, she allowed herself to kiss him again, before she said, "I've got to go get dressed. See you."

She didn't wait for a response, but instead shoved her way through the crowd and headed for the Hufflepuff dormitories, her cheeks a brilliant crimson and her heart pounding.

* * *

"Quite a show this morning," remarked Herbert, as Amelia took her seat opposite him and next to Cedric. "I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it, but rather, I'm just surprised at you, Amelia."

She narrowed her eyes as she tucked a loose wisp of hair behind her ear, and sipped the pumpkin juice Cedric passed her.

"Glad you got your jollies, Herb," she responded sarcastically. "That's my daily goal - to make sure Herbert Fleet gets his damn jollies."

"Well, thanks, cause I sure got them today," Herb winked, with a mouthful of eggs. "Weasley's a lucky bloke, I suppose."

"'Melia, I think you dropped this," Cedric said, changing the subject, as he picked up a crumpled piece of paper that had fallen from Amelia's robes.

"What?" Amelia asked, slightly confused.

"You dropped this," Cedric repeated. "What is it?"

He then took the liberty of uncrumpling the yellow sheet of paper, revealing the Hathorne family tree Amelia had stashed away in her robes the other day. Immediately, his face paled, and he looked to her.

"What're you doing with this?" he asked lowly.

"Oh, I took it away from some first years the other day," Amelia replied, able to lie on her feet fast. "They were tearing apart library books and using them as ammo to chuck at each others' heads. Must've forgotten to mend this one back in the book, here, I'll take it…."

"Amelia, don't you know who the Hathornes are?" Cedric asked, his voice still low and trembling. "Those first years must've been pretty messed up to have been looking in a book with them in it."

"Er, a wizarding family, I'm assuming," she responded simply.

"Well, yeah, but not just any wizarding family," Herbert chimed in. "Death Eaters, all of 'em. Not a good one in the bunch - two of them, the brothers, killed the McKinnons and a ton of others back in the day."

"They even say that You-Know-Who killed Lucretius Hathorne and his wife himself," Cedric said in a dark tone. "He was afraid Lucretius would take the Death Eaters from him and create his own regime….Whoever these first years are, they can't be any good, looking up information people like this…."

Amelia felt a stone sink into her gut.


	23. A Look Into the Pensieve

**So, sorry for the delay between chapters, but being a junior in high school can be quite time consuming for those of you who don't know. My sincerest apologies, but there will probably be longer gaps between chapters because of school and such, but I hope you can understand. **

**Also, I know this chapter is heavy on family history, but it's needed. If you want to see more romance with Fred (which I'm sure a lot of you do) PLEASE send me ideas on what you'd like to see Fred and Amelia doing (keep it appropriate, please :) ). And don't be afraid to leave any sort of review - comment, question, etc. I absolutely love hearing your feedback and seeing that I got another review really does brighten my day!**

**And, I adopted a new hamster - Teddy, like Teddy Lupin :)**

**Well, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!**

* * *

Within a week or so, Amelia had accepted the fact that she did indeed like Fred and that they were indeed dating. However, that didn't mean she underwent a sudden transformation into the picturesque, sugary-sweet girlfriend that Cho liked to pretend she was. Instead, she remained very much her usual sarcastic self, and didn't mind hexing Fred when he snuck up on her in the halls, something that he did a bit too much for her liking.

Currently, Amelia was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, her legs resting across Fred's lap as she proof-read Lee's poorly written Transfiguration essay. Lee wouldn't have even bothered writing it, if it wasn't for the fear McGonagall had struck in him lately, though that was as specific he'd get with her in his explanation.

"Lee, you've spelt 'transfiguration' wrong," Amelia said, without raising her eyes or even changing her expression. "No wonder McGonagall's failing you."

"Ah, that's not my fault," Lee piped up, from where he was fiddling with the radio. "I used one of those Self-Correcting Quills your boyfriend sold me."

Raising her glance momentarily, Amelia shook her head playfully at Fred, who merely shrugged and responded, "We never told you they worked. We just said they were our first round of Self-Correcting Quills."

"Arse," Lee joked, throwing a wad of parchment at Fred's head.

"Actually, I think our dear old Fred has become less of an arse since Amelia came around," George piped up with the same lopsided smirk that he shared with his brother, from his place between Katie and Alicia. "She's given him a few good kicks in the arse, though."

"Funny," Amelia sneered playfully.

She was then startled, seeing as Fred grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her directly into his lap, where he then stole a kiss from her, and caused her to retaliate with a punch to the chest.

"Stick to hexes, love," Fred joked, with a half-grin. "You don't have much of a punch on you."

Cheeks flushed, Amelia hastily checked her watch, and rose to her feet, saying, "I've got to go. Here's your paper, Lee…."

"Hey, don't forget next Saturday!" George piped up as she headed towards the door. "Fred and I'll finally be old enough to legally buy you your favorite beverage - firewhiskey!"

She stopped in her tracks momentarily, shook her head, grinned slightly, and exited via the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was already rather drunk with wine. Descending down the stairs, she couldn't help but to feel a bit giddy, which made her feel rather foolish, as she felt her cheeks continue to glow crimson.

"Miss Honeycutt," came a voice that Amelia immediately recognized - Dumbledore.

She froze with fear, realizing she was probably on the verge of some serious repercussions, since he'd clearly just seen her come out of the Gryffindor common room. So many other students snuck into the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms without consequence, but of course, with her luck, she'd just have to get caught by the Headmaster himself.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said apologetically, turning to him to face the music. "I didn't mean any…"

Raising a frail hand, Dumbledore silenced her, and told her, "I'm not here to punish you, Miss Honeycutt. I'd just like to talk to you for a moment. Please, come to my office."

Gulping, Amelia nodded, as she followed the cloaked old man. He'd just said she wasn't in trouble….but then why did she need to go to his office? What in Merlin's beard could he possible want to talk to her about, in his office, of all places?

The two arrived at the great door guarded by gargoyles, to which Dumbledore said, "Acid pops," and the great door swung open, revealing his mystical, cluttered office, and a sleeping Phoenix on a perch.

The sound of the two wizards entering the room awoke the bird, which then eyed Amelia curiously as Dumbledore fiddled with the lock to a cabinet. Seeing no harm, Amelia reached a hand out to stroke the silky red feathers atop the bird's head, which it seemed to like.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore informed her, seeing her petting the bird. "My old friend."

"Really very nice," Amelia commented, still shaking with nerves, though petting the bird seemed to calm her down some.

"Now, come here, Miss Honeycutt," Dumbledore instructed with a wave of his hand.

Though she obeyed, Amelia felt as if she was about to explode out of nervousness like an Exploding Snap card.

"Do you know what this is?" inquired Dumbledore, gesturing to the great stone basin filled with a silvery liquid/gas substance.

"A Pensieve," Amelia replied quickly. She remembered learning about them. "Objects used to store and review memories."

"Precisely," the Headmaster nodded. "Now, duck your head in - I believe I have a few memories in there that you'd like to see."

"...But, why, Professor?" Amelia asked, slightly confused.

With a slight grin, Dumbledore pulled a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of his robes - the Hathorne family tree. Immediately, Amelia winced, and flushed with something like embarrassment.

"How'd you….why….I….," she stuttered nervously.

"Professor Sprout saw that you had left this behind after a Herbology lesson," Dumbledore said. "She brought it to me, and I told her that I believe it's time."

"Time for what?" Amelia asked. Her heart was still pounding and her nerves were still skyrocketing.

"I believe you can piece it together if you take a look into the Pensieve," Dumbledore instructed.

Not knowing what else to do, Amelia swallowed a great amount of air, and ducked her head in, feeling herself swirl and swirl, until her feet finally hit the ground with a massive thud.

She looked around herself, and realized that she was before a great mansion of sorts - intricately built with stone and iron, in pure Gothic style, with flowers and gardens planted all around the perimeter. The front door was humongous, and she noticed the name carved over the top in stone - HATHORNE.

She felt the same stone sensation in her gut, until she heard the laughter of children, and turned.

A girl, maybe ten years old or so, came sprinting from around the corner, crying hysterically, her face wet and crimson, as she held her hands over her ears. Her dirty blonde hair, so much like Amelia's, was in two fraying braids that fell down her back, over the light pink rose-patterned cotton dress she wore with knee high stockings and ill-fitting Mary Janes.

A hex came flying through the air, just buzzing past Amelia's ear and missing it by mere inches, and struck the little girl square in the back, causing her to fall to the ground, stiff as a plank of wood. Petrificus Totalus.

"We got her now, Cass!" came a giddy voice of a boy, as two of them rounded around the corner, yielding wands.

"Good one, Mag!" praised the older boy.

The first thing that Amelia noticed about the boys was that their clothes, suits, were of much better quality than the dress the girl wore. The silky black fabrics reminded her of the things the Slytherins wore when they weren't in their robes.

Mag….Cass….Magnus and Cassius Hathorne.

"We've got you now, Squib," the older boy spat, leaning over the terrified looking girl frozen on the ground. He quite literally spat on her as he spoke.

The older boy, Magnus, then winked to the younger boy, Cassius, and the two proceeded to kick and spit on the girl, who was trapped, helpless on the ground.

"BOYS!" hollered a shrill, hysteric voice, as a woman burst from one of the smaller doors.

The two stopped immediately, seeing the woman bound towards them. She wore a simple, yet elegant and clearly high-end black dress that covered all of her up except her hands and face. Her hair, the same honey-blonde as the girl's, was twisted elegantly on the back of her head, and her sky-blue eyes were framed with lashes that her tears clung to.

Amelia realized that it was her grandmother, Zinnia Hathorne.

Zinnia pointed her wand at her sons, causing their wands to fly away and out of reach, as she angrily yelled at them, "Boys, how many times have I told you not to hurt or pick on your sister?! And now you're using magic on her, when you specifically know using it outside of school will end in your termination from Hogwarts?! You two never learn, do you?!"

She was interrupted in the middle of her screaming, as a man, dressed in an elegant, silky black suit, came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, shutting her up. Where she looked youthful, he looked ancient, in a refined sort of sense. His face was handsome, and not very wrinkled, but weathered, rather, and his gray hair was slicked back and his gray beard was slicked into a point. He had deep hazel eyes, almost brown, much like Amelia's.

Lucretius Hathorne, Amelia thought, her breath hitching. My grandfather.

"Won't you discipline them?!" the woman, Zinnia, shrieked, whipping around to her husband. "Look at what they're doing to her, our daughter!"

Lucretius took a step forward, peering over the terrified girl, still petrified on the ground, and seemed to sneer down at her, saying, "The Squib is no child of mine."

The scene change rapidly around Amelia, and she found herself swirling in a mess of cloud-like structures, before slamming down on her feet again. She assumed she was still at the Hathorne house, seeing as she was in a grand Gothic dining hall, where Lucretius and Zinnia were. She was pacing frantically, as Lucretius sat, emotionlessly, sipping wine from a golden goblet.

Crying hysterically, Zinnia pleaded with her husband, "You can't, you can't, Lucretius. You can't just expect me to let you send her away like that!"

"She's not like us, Zinnia," Lucretius said, coldly looking at his wife. "I will not have a Squib in my house. I cannot believe you disgraced me by having a Muggle's child."

Zinnia's eyes grew wide with sadness, as she meekly assured her husband, "Calliope is your daughter, please, I have not been unfaithful! She is our child, Lou!"

With even more ice in his tone, Lucretius replied, "The Squib is not mine."

In the corner of a doorway, little Calliope, Amelia's mother, cried before sprinting off into the darkness of the hallway.

The scene swirled again, briefly showing many small scenes - Zinnia and Lucretius leaving Calliope with Mrs. Fairfax, Calliope growing up and helping out around the home, Calliope listening to records and cassettes and growing from a girl into a young woman, and then, the scene changed drastically, and Amelia found herself in the middle of a crowded pub, full of young punks.

She caught her mother immediately, her hair now dyed an abrasive red, as she snogged a leather-clad bloke with a Johnny Rotten-esque kind of appearance. The next few scenes she whirled through were quick, but long enough for Amelia to understand the meaning. Her mother, now called Callie, was living with the bloke from the pub, called Ian, both young and very foolish and undeniably punks in the right time. A few scenes of them happily together in the flat and pub whizzed by, until the next scene came, and it was not so happy.

Callie, huddled in the corner, was crying, as she held her arms protectively around her stomach, which was now noticeably bulging beneath her Sex Pistols t-shirt. Ian was seemingly irate, and hurled a beer bottle at the wall, causing an explosion of brown glass, and turned back to her, but his expression was kind and sympathetic, as he crouched down next to her, and pulled her into his arms comfortingly.

"I know it's hard, love," he mumbled, stroking her faded, bubblegum-colored hair. "But we can't take care of a baby, we just can't. We don't have the money, and we're not going to be making it anytime soon….I wish we could, but we just can't, and you know it."

"But….I-I c-c-can't just….abort the baby, Ian," she whimpered, glancing at her stomach. "I can't, I can't do it."

"Shh, no, of course you can't, and I don't want you to," he told her. "We'll give the baby up for adoption….and when they're old enough, we can meet them, and tell them why we did it, that we gave them up to be raised properly by someone who had the money and experience, not a couple of London punks who can't afford a flat, alright? We're doing this out of love, Cal, it's what would be best for us, and the baby….besides….your family…."

"You're right," Callie sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand lightly, before nuzzling her head into Ian's chest, where it fit perfectly. "You're right, of course, that'd be best for the baby. She'd be raised by a nice Muggle family, no possible way my father or brothers could find her and hurt her….that'd be best."

Ian nodded, before asking, "She?"

"Yeah," Callie smiled through bloodshot eyes. "I just have a feeling. Mother's intuition."

The two shared a small moment of laughter, before kissing each other. Ian then helped Callie to the couch, where the snuggled together and put on the TV.

The same swirling feeling overwhelmed Amelia, but this time, she felt herself swirling upwards, and before she knew it, she landed back in Dumbledore's crowded office, gasping to catch her breath as she hit the stone floor with another thud.

Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his grand desk with his hands clasped upon it, then inquired, "You are a smart girl, Miss Honeycutt. I trust you have a fairly good understanding of what you have just seen."

Some strange kind of tears filled with every imaginable emotion welled in the corners of Amelia's eyes, as she nodded, and replied, "I believe so, sir….is she….are they….my parents….are they….still a-alive?"

"Yes, yes they are," Dumbledore nodded. "However, I have no idea where they are. At the end of the war, after your mother sent you to stay in Eleanora Fairfax's care, they had to go into hiding….your uncles were on a hunt for your mother's head, you see….but yes, they are still very much alive today and your uncles are locked away in Azkaban for the murder of the McKinnons and countless others."

Amelia's heart swelled with emotion, and she suddenly felt guilty. Horribly guilty, knowing what her family had done, her own blood family….she'd wondered about them for years of her life, but never, ever, in her wildest dreams had she imagined she came from a family of murderous Death Eaters who were in Azkaban.

"Excuse me, professor, thank you, but I must be getting to bed," she said suddenly, turning towards the door.

"Miss Honeycutt," Dumbledore interrupted.

She paused, and turned back to face the great old wizard.

His last words to her before she left for the night were, "Our blood does not define us."


	24. Curses and a Nightmare

**Hello again, and here I am with another chapter! As always thanks for all the support, it truly does mean the world to me, especially reviews! They never fail to brighten my day and are surely my lifeblood here on :)**

**Still, please send in what (appropriate) things you'd like to see Fred and Amelia do, since I'm sure you all want more of that. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Amelia couldn't help but to be distracted during her lessons the next day. Spaced out, she ignored Flitwick for a good minute after he'd called upon her for an answer. She nearly trimmed Phoebe's fingers off rather than pruning the plant they were working with. Even Moody, with all his deranged antics and unpredictable personality traits, couldn't keep her attention.

"Miss Honeycutt!" the man dubbed Mad-Eye erupted, shooting his short piece of chalk directly at the Hufflepuff girl's head. "Are your daydreams truly more important than learning how to defend yourself against some of the world's darkest and Unforgivable Curses?!"

"I'm sorry, professor," Amelia replied, sinking in her chair.

"Well, sorry doesn't sweeten my tea, does it, Honeycutt?" Moody spat in reply. "Get up here. Now."

Gulping, Amelia hesitantly obeyed, and walked slowly up to Moody at the front of the room, all eyes on her. She wasn't too crazy about that fact, nor was she crazy about the idea that she had no idea what Moody was about to do to her.

"Crucio!" exclaimed Moody, jabbing his wand in Amelia's direction.

Immediately, she dropped to the floor, writhing in agonizing pain. She didn't cry or yelp or make any sort of sound, she just tried to….resist the unbelievable pain.

Through the pain, she could hear some of the students shriek, as Moody explained, "The Cruciatus Curse, which as you all know by now is the torture curse, causes unfathomable pain, which is not easily resisted, as demonstrated by Honeycutt, here."

Her eyes glazed over with a sudden hatred for the old Auror, and somehow, she mustered the strength the shakily extract her wand from her robes, point it at Moody, and disarm him. His wand flew towards the window, as Amelia finally felt relief from the pain, caught her breath, and was able to rise to her feet as Moody and the rest stared at her in silent disbelief.

"Er….," Moody stuttered after a moment, still clearly having a hard time processing what Amelia had just done. "Er….well done, Honeycutt. That's one way to end the Cruciatus Curse, I suppose, yes, very effective….now, see if you can resist this one, the key here is willpower….Imperio!"

Slap yourself, Mudblood.

It was the voice of Moody, coming from Amelia's own head. She felt her hands controlling themselves, reaching up towards her face, ready to slap. She clenched her muscles as best she could, trying to stop herself, as she filled up with more and more hatred for Moody. How could an Auror with a reputation like his dare, or even want, to call her such a slur? He was a professor, he fought Dark Wizards for years, how could he, how dare he….

NO! Amelia thought in response.

Somehow, once again, she mustered the strength and resisted, claiming her muscles and thoughts back as her own, and shoving Moody out of her mind for what she hoped was forever.

As she stared at the professor she now hated, she saw the disbelief and unhappiness in his one real eye, while the fake one darted about in its socket.

"Well," Moody said, licking his lips. "It appears as though Honeycutt here already knows how to resist the Dark Arts quite well. Sit down."

Setting her jaw, she glared at him one last time, before defiantly stomping back to her seat next to Phoebe.

* * *

"He didn't!" exclaimed Cedric, as he and Amelia sat by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. "He couldn't have, he was an Auror….he locked up the kinds of witches and wizards that used such a slur…."

"Well, he did, Ced," Amelia mumbled. Her eyes were staring straight into the fire, almost emotionlessly. "And besides….I don't even think I'm technically a Muggle-born anymore."

Now, she'd really caught Cedric's attention, and he stared at her, and almost laughed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

She drew a breath, and realized she'd have to tell Cedric sooner or later….now was just as good a time as any….

"Remember when you found the Hathorne family tree that fell out of my pocket?" Amelia inquired. Cedric nodded, and allowed her to continue. "I didn't take it from first years. I ripped it out of the book because….they're my family."

"Amelia, you've got to be mistaken," Cedric said, shaking his head. "You're….you're Muggle-born, you're not related to them."

"I am, Ced," Amelia said. "Mrs. Fairfax, y'know, the lady who runs the home….a little while ago, I found out that she's actually a witch and she told me about my mother….and I did some research, you see….my mother….she was a Squib, born to the Hathornes, but given away when they found out she was a Squib. My dad, though….my dad's a Muggle….last night, Dumbledore showed me my mother's memories in the Pensieve….I'm not kidding, Ced."

"It can't be," Cedric replied, as if he was trying to convince himself. Now, pacing the floor in front of her, he mumbled, "It can't. You can't. You're not."

"I know I'm not," she said. "But they are. And they're my family."

Amelia watched as Cedric paced around about her for quite some time, until he finally settled down, and asked her, "You're sure?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

Phoebe, who had been sitting in a nearby chair combing a rather fluffy rat, looked at Amelia, with her usual wide eyes, and said, "That's okay, Amelia. It doesn't change who you are."

* * *

That night, Cedric had a dream. Well, really, a nightmare.

He had just won the Triwizard Tournament. He stood on a platform before all the students - Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang alike - as he grinned and waved while looking over the sea of ecstatic, supportive faces. His parents were on either side of him, unable to stop saying how proud they were.

Good, find dream so far. Until he turned around.

He turned, to face his parents, and their proud, joyous faces fell rapidly.

"You could've gotten yourself killed," his father said. "Do you have any idea how foolish this was? Risking your life for a bit of fame, son….what would your mother and I have done without you? Besides, you couldn't even win if you hadn't have cheated….Moody tipped you off about the egg and Amelia taught you everything you needed to know to win it, it should be their money and glory, not yours…."

"My son, a cheater!" wailed his mother, sobbing into his father's chest. "My son, an incompetent cheater!"

"Mum, Dad," Cedric pleaded. "Please, I didn't…."

He stepped towards them, but they vanished into thin air. Turned back around again, to see the crowd still cheering, but not at him. Instead, they were cheering on Fred Weasley and Amelia, who were amorously snogging before all of them.

"Amelia, hey!" Cedric shouted, sprinting towards them. "Amelia, tell them I didn't cheat, please! Please!"

It took her a moment, but Amelia detangled her mouth from Fred's, though she remained in his arms. She was glaring at Cedric, her look cold as ice.

"Why?" she asked snarkily. "I don't care what they think about you, Diggory. We used to be friends, sure, but we're not anymore. I've moved on. You've moved on. You have Cho, I have Fred. Why would I want be friends with you, a brainless cheater, when I could have a boyfriend like Fred Weasley and a prestigious family like the Hathornes?"

Just as he opened his mouth to plead with her, a group of black-clad, masked villains descended from the sky - Death Eaters. They surrounded him, swirling and cackling and jabbing him with their wands.

"Cheater, cheater!" they chanted. "And Amelia's one of us! Cheater, cheater, and Amelia's one of us!"

"STOP!" Cedric erupted, covering his ears with his hands. He fumbled for his wand, but he just couldn't find it.

"Kill the fool," came a high, icy, evil voice.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" shouted another.

A flash of green light shot at Cedric, and he felt it hit him square in the chest, and he was falling, dying, falling….

He woke up, gasping for breath, in a cold sweat.

"You alright, mate?" a very concerned sounding Herbert inquired, leaning over Cedric's bed. "You've been screaming in your sleep for the past hour; none of us could wake you up…."

"Just peachy, thanks," Cedric mumbled, stealing one of Amelia's lines. "Perfectly peachy."


	25. Slime, the Shrieking Shack and Snogs

**25 chapters, whohoo! This is one of the longest fics I've ever written, and though I've been busy with school and extracurriculars and all, meaning the writing process has slowed down, I have no intention of stopping this fic. **

**Your continued support means the world to me and I honestly cannot thank you enough. Reviews are my lifeblood here on and really do brighten my day, so please don't be afraid to drop one off!**

**Alright, I'll shut up now. Enjoy :)**

* * *

On the following Saturday morning, the morning that Fred and George finally turned seventeen, all of the Slytherins entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and they were all, well most were, covered in a thick, green, slimy substance. They all looked rather flustered, trying to scrub away or vanish the gunk off of them, to no avail. Even Snape, who was trying his hardest to get it off Draco Malfoy, wasn't having any luck and starting to look rather angry.

Obviously, the Slytherins weren't amused with whatever was happening to them. But, most of the other students were highly amused, snickering and pointing and whispering jokes.

"Brilliant, just brilliant," Lee commended, as he sat down across from the twins. "You two just get better with age, I suppose."

"Wasn't us, mate," Fred said. Holding a hand up as if he was testifying in court, he added, "Prankster's honor."

"Seriously?" Lee asked disbelievingly, as he raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously," Fred and George nodded in unison.

"But….who else would be brilliant enough to cover all the Slytherins in a green slime that's spell-proof?" Lee asked, looking extremely interested in knowing the answer.

"That'd be me, Lee," Amelia chimed in. She approached him from behind, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Her sweater was mustard colored, with a black band across the chest, Hufflepuff-style. "I'm honored you think I'm so brilliant. Really, it's just a variation on a Muggle hair-dye. Added it to their showers last night. Should wear off by this time tomorrow….if not, oh well….I can make some money, have them pay me to counter-curse it off of them, I'm the one one who knows how….oh, and happy birthday, Fred, George."

With those words and a slight nod, she vanished into the Hufflepuff table, where she was greeted by Herb, Phoebe, Leanne and Cedric, all who were having quite the hoot over what she'd done. She was welcomed like a queen, and gave her subjects a sarcastic bow before gracing her seat.

Shaking his head, Fred mumbled, "Blimey, I knew there was a reason why I liked her."

"You sure know how to pick 'em, mate," Lee nodded, gazing towards the Hufflepuff table. "Not hard on the eyes either….hell of an arse….y'know, if we'd been introduced sooner, I'd…."

Lee was cut off in the middle of his sentence, being hit in the side of the head with hard-boiled egg.

"Watch your mouth," Fred warned him, half-playfully, half-seriously. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about."

"Your future wife, more like it," George joked, poking at his scrambled eggs. "Hm….Amelia Weasley…."

"Come off it," Fred responded, punching George in the shoulder. He gazed back over to the Hufflepuff table, and mused, "I think I'll take her out tonight."

"That's a bit backwards, Fred," George replied. "Its your birthday, our birthday, not 'Melia's."

"It's a birthday present to myself, George," Fred responded.

"Oh, just trying to get some action, eh?" Lee joked, as he and George chuckled. "Don't blame you there, mate….like I said, she's got a hell of an arse….bet she's a great snog too, I'd put money on that…"

"You're just asking to get your arse kicked now," George said with a half grin, nodding his head at Fred, who was not amused.

"Yeah, stop looking at her like that," Fred said, rising to his feet. With just a shadow of a grin, he added, "That's my future wife you're talking about."

* * *

"Stop!" Amelia shouted, swatting Leanne's hands out of her hair. "Will you leave me alone, for Merlin's sake?"

Pouting a bit, Leanne replied, "I was only trying to fix your rat's nest of a head of hair so you could look decent tonight."

"Perfectly happy with my hair, thanks," Amelia mumbled.

"Rats' nests don't look like that," Phoebe said dreamily, from where she was sitting on her bed, with plenty of rats crawling over her. "And I think your hair already looks nice, Amelia."

Leanne rolled her eyes, looking at Phoebe's own hair, which was adorned with feathers, twigs, beads, and god knows what else.

"You're one to talk," Leanne grumbled under her breath. Either Phoebe didn't hear, or, being herself, just didn't care.

"I like my hair," Phoebe said. She didn't sound angry, she was merely replying and adding to the conversation.

"Good for you," Leanne sighed.

"I'll be leaving now," Amelia said. Standing up, she headed for the door, and looked at Leanne, and warned, "Play nice."

Amelia then exited the Hufflepuff dorms and common room, and went to meet Fred by the Hogsmeade exit. She was glad that he and George seemed to get a laugh out of the prank that she'd played on the Slytherins that morning, which was their birthday gift to them, though she immensely enjoyed doing it almost as much as everyone else - besides the Slytherins - enjoyed the results. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to stop worrying about Cedric and the final task of the tournament and thinking about that fact that she was the last in line in a family of Azkaban-entrapped Death Eaters.

Though it was indeed her boyfriend's (she wasn't a huge fan of the word) birthday, she wasn't all that dressed up. Jeans, and her cleanest plaid flannel shirt, which was actually buttoned, over a crisply ironed white t-shirt. Her hair was down, messy as always, but she'd at least taken the care to wash it the night before, something she often couldn't be bothered to do. On her feet were her usual Chuck Taylors, but she only had those and a pair of combat boots….she figured, in some way, the Chucks were more appropriate. And, she topped things off with her denim jacket, just in case she got a bit chilly while she was out. It was always a possibility.

"Ah, there you are, love," greeted Fred as she approached him, arms open for an embrace.

"Happy birthday, again," Amelia said after Fred had released her just a tad.

She was still in his arms, though, and she wasn't complaining. She could've kissed him, with that stupid half-grin of his on his stupidly adorable face, but George was right there, leaning against the wall, smirking.

Clearing her throat, she added, "You too, George."

"No worries, I realize I'm only chopped liver here," George replied with a shrug and a smirk. "Thanks, though, 'Melia. I'll let you go now so you can give Freddie some birthday fun."

Eyes widening Amelia asked, "We're not all going out together?"

"Course not," George said, as if it should've been obvious. "Have fun, kids. Just remember - I don't want to be an uncle any time soon, alright?"

"George!" Amelia exclaimed, rather embarrassed.

Fred, of course, was unphased, and only chuckled as he pulled Amelia closer to him by her waist.

"C'mon," Fred urged. "We've got a castle to sneak out of."

Amelia only followed along, as Fred dragged her through the corridors and ultimately outside the castle. He dragged her all the way to the infamous Whomping Willow, which was where she dug her heels into the grass so that she came to a screeching halt, and refused to go any further.

"No," Amelia said, shaking her head. "I'm not going in there."

She wasn't stupid - she knew the tunnel led to the Shrieking Shack, and if you didn't make it into the tunnel, the tree would kill you.

"What, are you scared, Honeycutt?" Fred inquired teasingly. She wanted to punch the stupid grin off of his face.

"No," she piped up promptly and defensively. "...It's just….it's against school rules."

Fred snorted, rolled his eyes, and then asked, "Since when are you afraid of going against school rules? C'mon, live a little. Do it for me, Honeycutt, it is my birthday."

"Fine, Weasley," Amelia retorted, rolling her eyes. "Only for you."

"Good choice," Fred nodded. "Now, take notes on this…."

She watched, as he approached the monstrous old tree fearlessly in true Gryffindor fashion, and poked the center of one particular knot on the tree, which caused the tree to freeze completely. Now that it wasn't going to kill anyone, Fred seized her hand once again, and before she knew it, was dragging her town the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack. Her heart was pounding, but she didn't know what was causing it more - the Shrieking Shack, or being alone with Fred. Either way, it was.

In all of her years at Hogwarts, Amelia had never been inside the Shrieking Shack, or even near the Whomping Willow, for that matter. Now she was inside, and she couldn't say it wasn't what she expected. It was old, dilapidated, and rather dusty. She merely wandered about the room that appeared to be the old sitting room, as Fred kneeled by the old fireplace and lit a fire. When he turned back to her, he had a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses in hand. He poured the liquid into the glasses, and handed one to Amelia, and they clinked them together in a toast.

"Happy birthday, Weasley," Amelia winked, raising her glass. "Thank Merlin you can legally buy me firewhiskey now."

"Mm, true," Fred nodded, after taking his sip. "Don't get used to it, though. I'm limiting you, Honeycutt."

"What do you mean?" Amelia inquired.

Taking her glass and setting it along with his atop the mantle, he slyly replied, "I mean that I'm not going to let you get drunk, Miss Honeycutt. Because the next time we snog, I can't have you blaming it on being drunk again."

Rolling her eyes, Amelia crossed her arms, and inquired, "What makes you think I'll ever snog you again, especially if I'm sober?"

"Because I've got you better figured out than you think I do," Fred informed her, taking her into him by the waist once again.

"Yeah?" Amelia asked, laying her hands on his chest, through his homespun sweater. "I don't believe you."

"Test me," he challenged, smirking again. "Go ahead, ask me a question about yourself."

She pondered for a moment, and then decided to ask him something he couldn't possibly know - her favorite musicians, all of whom were Muggles.

"Who are my favorite musicians?" she then asked.

For a moment, judging by the stumped look on his face, she thought she had him, until she just realized that he was just an impressive actor, as he said, "Hm, let's see….bunch of Muggles, right? I'm going to have to say….that American Muggle, Jimi Hendrix, who plays guitar as if he were a wizard….the usual, the Beatles….the late, great American set of Muggles, Nirvana….shame there, killing himself and all….and some obscure little 'punk' band called X-Ray Spex from London….correct, love?"

Though she had a hard time believing it, she gave Fred a well-deserved round of applause, but she wasn't giving him a pass just yet.

"Where am I from?"

"Eastleigh."

"Favorite color?"

"Please, Honeycutt, I know you well enough to know such trivial things as favorite colors don't concern you."

"What am I afraid of?"

"Now you're just insulting my intelligence. Heights and water."

"You've been stalking me, haven't you, Weasley?" Amelia asked playfully.

"Not at all, love," Fred grinned in response. "I believe it's called 'paying attention,' though I wouldn't know. There isn't much I pay attention to, besides a certain Hufflepuff."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me, aren't you?" Amelia grinned. "Too sweet."

"Sweet enough to deserve a snog?" Fred inquired, just as playful as ever.

"Only because it's your birthday," she shrugged, grinning brilliantly. "Usually, I hate you."

"Don't worry, I hate you too," he assured her with a wink.

Then, Amelia found herself kissing Fred once again, not exactly snogging, but kissing, and it was the kind of kiss that made her heart race and her knees weak. And it was at that moment that she knew there was no getting out of the fact that she was falling for Fred Weasley.


	26. A Sprained Wrist and Sweetened Tea

**So, after what I assume has been a long wait for some of you, here's chapter 26. **

**I felt I needed a breath of air from this fic. I do intend to see it through to the end, however, I can't promise updates as frequently anymore, for which I apologize. I am a student and a participant in many extra-curriculars, and sometimes I need to walk away from my writing for a while to get some of that fire back. **

**Anyway, as always your reviews mean the world to me, so please don't be afraid to leave one! I absolutely love hearing from you all, and reading your reviews truly brightens my day and puts a smile on my face. So thank you, all of you, for the support and the reviews, it's greatly appreciated :-). And, don't be afraid to drop off questions for me, the author, or any of the characters. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"Why are you stressing yourself out so much?" Fred inquired, as he chewed a Chocolate Frog and watched Amelia wrack her brain while writing a Potions essay. "It's not like there are O.W.L.s this year, with the Tournament."

"That's exactly why I'm stressing myself out so much," she mumbled in response. "Since I'm not taking O.W.L.s, my grades matter a lot more, and I really have to keep my grades up if I want to get into the Healing program at St. Mungo's."

Raising an eyebrow, Fred questioned, "You want to be a Healer?"

"Well, yeah," Amelia shrugged. With a playful smirk and wink, she added, "Our little prank business, as fun as it is, isn't what I plan on doing for the rest of my life."

"Too bad, you're already stuck," Fred said, shaking his head. "But, I suppose I can let you be a Healer in your free time."

"How generous," Amelia retorted, dipping her quill into the inkwell.

"Generous?" George chimed in, joining the conversation as he sat down next to Amelia. "I didn't know Fred had it in him."

"Low blow, brother," Fred replied, tossing a wad of parchment at George's head.

"Anyway, Amelia, is it true that Diggory ended things with Cho Chang?" George asked, turning his attention back to Amelia.

Furrowing her brow at the news she hadn't even heard, she countered, "Who'd you hear that from?"

"Phoebe told me," George informed her. "Is it true?"

Before Amelia could answer, Fred blurted out, "You've been hanging around with Mad-As-A-Hatter-Hibbert?"

However, after seeing the icy looks from both George and Amelia, Fred backpedaled a bit, and said, "I'm sure she's not at all mad and completely lovely when you get to know her….it's just….the rats are a bit odd…."

"I'll give you that one," Amelia compromised with a shrug. "I wouldn't exactly choose to own a pack of rats."

Changing the subject back, George asked again, "Well, is it true that Diggory is done with Cho?"

"I don't know," Amelia answered honestly. "I hadn't heard anything about that until you just mentioned it."

"Really? You spend all kinds of time with Diggory, but he never bothers mentioning Cho?" George inquired. "I would've thought he would've mentioned it to his best friend."

"Oh, shut it," Amelia said, hastily gathering her stuff from the table. She gave Fred a quick kiss, before saying, "I'll see you two later, alright?"

She scurried out of the library before either of them had any time to ask her questions, and headed back to the Hufflepuff common room. She was hoping to find Cedric, and ask him why he'd broken up with Cho and neglected to tell her, considering that they usually shared virtually everything with each other.

After putting her stuff up in her dorm room, she returned to the common room and sat next to Cedric, in the loveseat by the fire.

"Hi," Amelia greeted with a smile.

"Hi," Cedric replied, giving her the same kind of smile, though he looked a bit confused. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Amelia inquired.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You just look like you're up to something, or something."

Deciding to get straight to the point, Amelia asked, "Is it true that you broke up with Cho?"

Surprised, Cedric asked, "Who told you that?"

"George told me, Phoebe told him," she answered. "But is it true?"

Rolling his eyes, Cedric muttered, "Of course you got your information from a Weasley."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, now looking rather offended.

"Well, it's just that you spend all of your time snogging Fred Weasley," Cedric said. "So, of course, you'd find out information through him and his brother instead of coming to ask me directly."

"It's not my fault you've been distant with me!" Amelia shot, and Cedric knew she was right. "Yes, maybe I should've been around you and the others more, but I'm trying to figure out the whole dating balance thing with Fred. Either way, you haven't been the friendliest with me lately."

Leaping to his feet, Cedric suddenly became seemingly infuriated, as he nearly screamed at her, "Have you ever considered that other people besides you have got feelings?! I've got this whole bloody Tournament to be worried about, to try and make sure I don't get killed during it, and on top of that, as if that wasn't bad enough, you're dating Fred Weasley! You're all about you, Amelia, only worried about you and Fred Weasley, instead of stopping for a second to realize that I've been your friend for years and that I need your help now more than ever, unlike Fred Weasley, who only took an interest in you since you've been able to fill out a bra!"

Outraged and infuriated beyond words, Amelia only stood there, staring at Cedric, with a kind of fire burning in her eyes that no one had ever seen before. She hated him in that moment, she really did. She couldn't say anything, she only scrambled for her wand, and jabbed it in his direction.

Immediately, Cedric's eyes grew inhumanly wide as he flew back with the force, and slammed into the wall, and then fell, crumpled on the floor, and stared at her in shock, as did everyone else in the room. She was frozen for quite some time, breathing heavily, trying to process what she'd just done, before lowering her wand.

Cedric stared at her, grabbing his wrist. It was obvious that it was broken, and that it was all Amelia's fault.

But was it her fault? He was just as nasty to her, though verbally nasty, and she'd retaliated by being physically nasty. What he said was just mean, right? She still cared about Cedric, but she also cared about Fred, and Fred cared about her, didn't he? He wasn't just going out with her because of her chest! ….No, he couldn't be. No. Cedric was just being an arse.

"I'm not sorry," Amelia said immediately, and with surprising confidence. "You were being an arse."

At that moment, she started her sprint out of the common room. She just had to get out of there, clear her head….there was so much running through her brain at the moment….why was Cedric being such an arse? Was Fred only dating her for such neanderthal-like reasons?

And then, of course, there was the fact that she was a Hathorne.

And, as she stormed out of the common room, she had the misfortune of running straight into Professor Sprout. Judging by the expression on the witches' face, she was not happy.

"Detention, Honeycutt," Sprout said matter-of-factly. "One week's detention. And consider yourself lucky that's all I'm giving you."

* * *

Once things had settled down and Herb had escorted Cedric to the hospital wing so that Madame Pomfrey could mend his sprained wrist, Amelia retreated to her dormitory room. She sat in the center of her four-poster, knees hugged to her chest, sulking. She felt positively terrible, ashamed of herself, angry at Cedric, and questioning Fred. She couldn't recall a time when she felt like such a jumbled bunch of emotions. Sure, as a teenage girl, she'd experienced many times where she was overwhelmed with emotion, but never so many at once.

She wanted to apologize to Cedric. He was right, he was one of her oldest friends, and one of her best, and it wasn't right for her to ignore him even if she had begun dating Fred. On the other hand, she wanted to punch him in the face for being such an arse. Sure, he was stressed, and she had been wrong, but he had no right to yell and holler at her like that in front of everyone. In that regard, she believed that she'd been right by throwing that curse at him.

Amelia was awoken from her trance-like state of thinking by the overwhelming scent of something chemical - nail polish. She popped her head up, to see Phoebe, fast at work on her own bed, painting her nails. Of course, being Phoebe, she didn't paint any two fingers the same color.

"Muggle nail polish, Pheebs?" Amelia inquired dryly, as she reached for a book from beneath her bed. She figured she'd be the bigger person and leave Cedric a list of helpful spells for the Final Task.

"Yes," Phoebe nodded, without drawing her eyes from her hands, as the rats ran rampant over the bed. "And you know, you shouldn't look so glum."

Raising an eyebrow while flipping towards the section of Defensive Spells, Amelia asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because you were right to do what you did to Cedric," Phoebe said matter-of-factly, as her head popped up. "You shouldn't have sprained his wrist, but he deserved a curse. I can understand that he's worried and upset and stressed about the Final Task, but he didn't need to talk to you like that."

"Thank you!" Amelia exclaimed, glad someone had taken her side.

"But you didn't need to talk to him like that either," Phoebe continued. "So he should've cursed you too, to even things out."

Well, Phoebe couldn't always be a genius.

After a moment of silence, Amelia, for some odd reason, found herself asking Phoebe, "Do you think Cedric's right, though? About what he said….about Fred?"

"That he's only dating you for your rack?" Phoebe asked. Amelia could've burst out laughing, hearing Phoebe use slang like that in a completely serious and non-humorous manner. "No. I don't think so. I think Fred likes you very much, for you as a person."

"Thanks," Amelia said quietly. Something about hearing that from Phoebe made her feel a lot better.

"Though, I can't say your rack doesn't sweeten his tea."


	27. After Detention

**So, here's another chapter. Per usual, I'd like to start by thanking all of you who have shown me continued support. It truly does mean the world to me to see likes, favorites and especially reviews. Reading your thoughts on my writing via reviews honestly brightens my day and helps me to stay writing and inspired, so thank you all :)**

**And, a couple of questions were received from Ultimatefangurl1, so here's a mini lil Q&amp;A!:**

**Ultimatefangurl1 asks: ****_I have a question for Cedric, do you have a crush on Amelia? Hmmm? *I ask while placing my hands on my hips and pursing my lips* Because if you do please keep them on the down low and just try to keep the feels as a best friendy as you can because I want Fred and Amelia to stay together! Understand! Good! And does George have some hidden feels for Phoebe to maybe they'll be like what we always hoped for with Neville and Luna or at least I hoped for them._**

**Cedric: We're just friends! I like Amelia a whole lot and love her - in a sister kind of way! Why does everyone think I fancy her? **

**Herb: Because you do, mate...**

**George: I don't fancy Phoebe, but I think she's nice. Very interesting. And she's inspiring me to come up with a few ideas for some pranks involving rats. **

**So, don't be afraid to leave a question for any of the characters, or me, the author or a review!**

**Question from me: Do you guys really want to see Phoebe/George or Phoebe/Neville though?**

**Love you all and thanks again!**

* * *

Amelia was stuck serving a week's detention in the greenhouses with Sprout after supper. But, Moody was out, since he was in a bit of hot water with the Ministry after word got out that he was using Unforgivable Curses on the students. Dumbledore got him out of it, as was Dumbledore's way, but Moody was still forced to take a little time off from giving the students lessons. Snape stood in for him, as he had the previous year for Professor Lupin, who Amelia was wishing would reappear at the castle and take over Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was the only good and sane one they'd had in her time at Hogwarts.

In the few days since the incident in the common room, Cedric had sheepishly apologized to Amelia and thanked her for the list of defensive spells she'd had Phoebe deliver to him. They were friends again, even if they were tentative friends. They were both being overly polite to each other, cautious, as if they were afraid of setting each other off once again. They both felt bad about what had happened, though Cedric felt much worse than Amelia did, even if she was the one who physically harmed him.

All of these thoughts - Ced, Moody, and of course, Fred - were all swirling through her mind as she scrubbed out empty plant pots in greenhouse #3. Sprout had already retreated for the night, and though she'd lost trust in her previous favorite student, she still trusted Amelia enough to believe she'd stay and finish her work, which she would. She wasn't going to risk her Prefect status - something that would undeniably look good on a St. Mungo's application - over a stupid go she had at Cedric.

Absentmindedly, Amelia continued to scrub the soil out of the pots. Out of nowhere, Maggie Mae appeared, purring as she rubbed her head against Amelia's legs through her robes. Amelia grinned. Her cat usually fended for herself, but knew when to come around when her owner needed a bit of an emotional pick-me-up. Lovingly, she scooped up the black and white bundle of fur, giving Maggie Mae a good scratch and kiss on the head before setting her back on her feet. As soon as she did, Maggie Mae leapt up to the side of the sink, where she sat, her tail swishing, as she watched Amelia scrub the pots with a kind of interested look that made Amelia laugh a bit as she went back to work.

Though she had tried to go back to work, she couldn't, as Maggie was persistently swatting her with her tail, until Amelia finally gave in and looked back to her cat. This time, she noticed something she'd somehow missed - a wad of parchment dangling from Maggie's mouth.

"What's this?" Amelia inquired, half playfully and half in disbelief that Maggie had gotten her mouth on some parchment.

Un-wadding it, she expected to find someone's lost homework, maybe with a few rats' guts splattered on the page, but it wasn't at all what she found. It was an article, from the Daily Prophet, dated sometime in 1980. Amelia read:

_Among those prominent wizarding families who fell from grace after it was discovered they were Death Eaters are the Hathornes. An age-old and previously well-respected family, until Lucretius Hathorne, and sons Magnus and Cassius were revealed to be among He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most trusted followers._

_Now, in the days since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been defeated, Magnus and Cassius have been awaiting trial and likely to spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban. A few of the Ministry's top Aurors went on a search for Lucretius Hathorne, who they believed had fled the country, until they found his body in his home. Auror Alastor Moody confirms he was killed by the Killing Curse, and that he believes You-Know-Who was behind the murder._

_"Don't know why You-Know-Who'd kill one he trusted the most," Moody told a Daily Prophet correspondent. "But there's evidence that he did do it himself, and we're going to figure out why. The important thing is that he and You-Know-Who are gone, for now."_

_Though Lucretius is dead and Magnus and Cassius in the Ministry's custody, Lucretius' long time wife, Zinnia Garrod Hathorne, has yet to be found. The Ministry offers a reward to whoever can offer information on her whereabouts or what happened to her, though Moody and the Aurors are almost certain she died like her husband, and that her body was vanished or hidden well._

Chewing her bottom lip, Amelia attempted to make sense of it all. First, how the hell did her bloody cat come across this? Sure, Maggie was part kneazle….but this was uncanny….

Besides that, the actual article….Zinnia - Amelia's grandmother - well, her body had never been found, according the the article. If there was no body, there was no definitive proof that she was dead. She could still be out there, alive….and awaiting Voldemort's return….

But even that, Amelia couldn't be so sure about. In the memories she'd viewed in the Pensieve, Zinnia seemed to be the only one to love her daughter, despite her lack of magical abilities. That didn't mean Zinnia didn't hold the same prejudices, though….she could've made an exception for her daughter, she could've just refused believe that her daughter wasn't magical….

Amelia thought she'd been confused before. Now she was overwhelmed with confusion.

"Where'd you get this?" Amelia asked, now dead serious, as she held the parchment up to her cat.

If cats were able to smirk, Amelia could've sworn Maggie smirked at her at that moment. Then, she tilted her head, her ears wiggling a bit, and with a faint meow, leapt from the side of the sink and disappeared out of the greenhouse. Amelia watched her go. It could be the last day of school before she saw that damn cat of hers again.

"'Melia?" came a very human voice that broke her out of her slight trance.

Jerking her head up, she saw that it was Cedric.

"You nearly scared me shitless, Ced," she said with a slight smirk as she attempted to catch her breath.

"I noticed," he chuckled. "Anyway, are you done with your detention duties for this evening?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, wiping her hands on her robes. "Yeah, I suppose. You need something?"

"Yeah, I do, actually," Cedric said, his tone changing drastically as he took a seat at one of the long greenhouse tables. "I hate to ask, but I want some help preparing for the Final Task."

"That isn't until June, though," Amelia replied, sitting on top of the table beside him. "You have plenty of time to prepare yourself."

"I know," Cedric nodded. "And I think I'm going to need a lot of practice for this….I want you to teach me how to conjure a Patronus."

While her eyebrows shot up into her hairline, Amelia repeated, "Conjure a Patronus? You think you'll have to fight off Dementors?"

"I don't know," he shrugged solemnly. "At this point, anything could happen, I really don't know….you'll teach me, though, won't you? You're the only one I know that can conjure a full corporeal Patronus now that Lupin's gone. I don't know how you do it, how you're so good with all this magic stuff…."

"Because I read, Diggory," Amelia said, rolling her eyes.

It was true, ever since arriving at Hogwarts Amelia stayed up late into the night most nights, rather than sleep, so she could read every magic book she could get her hands on. Growing up in the Muggle world, she was endlessly fascinated with the new magical world she was thrown into, and wanted to read and absorb and learn everything about it that she possibly could, so she gave up many nights' sleep to read. She learned a lot of her pranks from those books, too.

"Read, schmeed," Cedric dismissed with a flick of the wrist. Pulling his wand, he asked again, "So you'll teach me?"

"Well, a Patronus isn't just reading," Amelia told him. "There's a lot more, it's a lot of….mental preparation. You've got to think, and think really hard, about the happiest moment of your life. Sounds easy enough, but really, not as easy as it sounds. Here."

Pulling her own wand, she recited the incantation, "Expecto Patronum."

The brilliant, silvery, spectral hedgehog emerged from her wand, prancing and dancing around through the air, before fading gracefully into nothingness. Amelia looked back to Cedric, who was still staring at the now empty space the Patronus had just occupied, seemingly in awe.

"Alright," Cedric muttered, leaping to his feet as if he'd just been struck with some great inspiration. Pointing his wand, he recited, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery mist-like form shot from the end of Cedric's wand. A Patronus, sure, but a non-corporeal one. A shield Patronus.

While Amelia applauded Cedric - she out of anyone knew that conjuring anything at all on your first try for such a charm was quite the feat - he looked terribly disappointed.

"C'mon, that was good for a first try!" Amelia praised, patting him on the shoulder in an encouraging matter. "I didn't get a full Patronus my first time. No one does. You've got to keep trying, that's how you get good at things!"

With a slight chuckle, Cedric asked, "Is that how you got so good at magic?"

"Practice makes perfect," she joked with a wink. "C'mon, don't give up now."

For hours into the night, Cedric and Amelia stayed in the greenhouse, as Amelia kept up Cedric's moral by praising and encouraging him. Without her there, he probably would've given up after the first attempt, but she wouldn't allow him. It was well past midnight before Cedric was able to conjure a corporeal Patronus. And when he did, its form shocked the two of them.

It was a hedgehog.

"What does that mean?" Cedric asked, though his eyes didn't move from his Patronus, as it scurried over their heads. "How do we….why do we have the same Patronus?"

"I don't know," Amelia mused, her eyes following Cedric's hedgehog as well. "It could just be a coincidence….but…."

"But what?" Cedric questioned.

"I've read about cases where….," Amelia began, hesitantly slow. "Where….people's Patronuses change to mirror the Patronus of the person that they're in love with….but….we're not in love, and you've never managed to conjure a Patronus before, so it couldn't have changed…."

"Um….," Cedric stumbled, after a moment of awkward silence. "Thanks, Amelia, but I've got to go to bed."

"Yeah, me too," she replied hurriedly. "And about the love stuff….that was stupid, I shouldn't have even brought it up. They're probably the same because we're alike, being friends and all."

Cedric nodded vaguely, and exited, while Amelia stayed behind and collapsed onto one of the stools. She felt like an idiot, she felt confused, and worried for the Final Task, all at once.

And, of course, there was now the fact that her possibly-a-Death-Eater grandmother was still alive, and the fact that Maggie Mae seemed to have human intelligence.

Understandably, it was all rather overwhelming to Amelia, who pondered over it all until she fell asleep right there in the greenhouse.


	28. Kicking Granny Arse

**Another chapter, and another time that I must thank you for all your continued support. I say this everything I start a chapter, but your support truly does mean the world to me, and reviews always make me smile and help keep me inspired :-). **

**So, please don't be afraid to drop a review off, or a question for any of the characters or me, the author! **

**Also, I'm posting a little drabble fic focused on Phoebe. There will be spoilers in that as it probably won't be chronological, but if you read the first part, you'll see that I do mark where there will be spoilers. **

**As always, enjoy, and thanks again lovelies xx**

* * *

"Chocolate Frog?" inquired Phoebe, as she pulled a load of them from her woven bag.

Shaking her head, Amelia playfully responded, "I don't know how you've always got so many of those."

"I like them," she shrugged, stuffing one in her cheeks. She fed another one to the rats in her lap, before stating, "You look like you've got something on your mind."

"Ugh, I don't want to burden you, Pheebs," Amelia grumbled. "You don't need to know my problems."

"I do though, I'm the Hogwarts shrink," she smirked, picking a twig from her hair with her rainbow fingers. The two girls laughed. "I'm glad you get the joke. Most people here don't, seeing as they haven't grown up with Muggles."

Like Amelia had previously thought she was, Phoebe was a Muggle-born. She grew up with two straight-laced, conservative, and thoroughly Muggle parents, in Dundalk, in Ireland. Her mother sold insurance, and her father managed the electricity company. You couldn't find two people who were more stereotypically Muggle, and yet, they had Phoebe as a child, who was considered eccentric even in the wizarding world.

"Well, I've got your Muggle references," Amelia replied with a dry smile.

"You've got my references, and I've got an ear for you," Phoebe responded, unwrapping another Chocolate Frog. "Go on."

"It's just that….well, this is going to sound insane, but Maggie Mae brought me this last night while I was serving my detention in the greenhouse," Amelia said, handing Phoebe the wad of paper she'd kept in her robes.

Phoebe flattened the sheet out and read it herself, the looked to Amelia, and said, "So, your grandmother's still alive, is that it?"

"I don't know that," Amelia replied. "But I also don't know if she's dead."

"Who died?" came the voices of their favorite redheaded twins.

"Another rat?" asked George, as he took the chair next to Phoebe.

Fred, on the other hand, was feeling rather….handsy, as he lifted Amelia up for a brief kiss, before placing her on his lap in the chair she previously occupied. She gave him a love tap, or love slap, rather, as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hands off," she scolded lightly, kicking him in the shin. "Unless I tell you otherwise."

"Whatever you say, Honeycutt," he replied with a wink. Looking to Phoebe, he then asked, "So, who's dead?"

"Nobody's dead, not for sure, anyway," Phoebe said. One of her rats helped itself to the bit of chocolate she had stuck to her lip, causing the other three to wince.

"What do you mean you're not sure someone's dead?" George asked. "Who is maybe dead anyway?"

Phoebe shut up, her sea-green eyes wide, as she looked to Amelia. Phoebe was a lot of things, but she wasn't stupid, and she sure as hell wouldn't bring up Amelia's newfound family history without her permission.

"Er….," Amelia stumbled.

Her heart was thumping….she knew Fred and George and the rest of the Weasleys were pure good, fighting against the Death Eaters with everything they had….some of their family had died in the war. Would he dump her? Would he hate her? Would George hate her as well? She knew the Weasleys had tempers and whatnot, much more than Phoebe and Ced….they were bound to judge her.

But, not telling them would be dishonest. That wasn't fair.

"My grandmother," Amelia finally blurted out.

"Oh, you've found your family?" Fred asked optimistically. She'd told him about her lack of knowledge about her family and the foster home. "That's brilliant!"

"Not so much," Amelia admitted lowly. "They're not Muggles….they're wizards…."

"Even better!" Fred continued, shaking her playfully. "If you visit them, at least they're more likely to be exciting."

"No, no, just listen," Amelia said, punching his shoulder in an attempt to get him to shut up so he could hear the truth. "It's not that great, because it turns out that they're Death Eaters."

As soon as she said it, everyone shut up so much that Amelia wondered if they'd stopped breathing. Phoebe, of course, was the one to break the silence, as she cracked open another Chocolate Frog to split with her rats, her eyes wide, and darting between Fred and George, waiting for them to say something just like Amelia was.

"You're serious?" George attempted to verify, filling in the silence for his brother.

"Dead," Amelia nodded. She wasn't proud.

"Well….who are they?" Fred then asked lowly.

She took another deep breath, before answering, "The Hathornes - but look, don't judge me! You lot know I'm not like that!"

It took him longer to say it than Amelia would've liked, but finally, Fred replied, "No, love, you're not like that….but….you're sure?"

"Completely sure," Amelia nodded. "Dumbledore showed me, through my mother's memories, in the Pensieve. It's true."

"The Pen-what?" Fred asked.

"Pensieve," Phoebe chirped. "A device for the storage and review of memories."

"Wait," George chimed in. "Is….does that mean….your mum is the Squib Hathorne?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "How'd you know?"

"Everyone knows," George responded. "It was a whole scandal back in the day. My dad told me they even brought up how Magnus and Cassius abused her when they were just kids. And, they had this whole vendetta against Squibs because they were so embarrassed to have one in the family."

"But….so….," Amelia stammered for a moment. "This doesn't….change anything, does it?"

Her eyes flickered between both Fred and George, looking for verification between the both of them.

"I'm only speaking for myself here, but it doesn't change things between us," George told her with a slight smile.

"No change here, either," Fred smiled after his brother. "But….you don't know if your gran's really dead or not?"

"No," Amelia sighed. Phoebe handed him the old Daily Prophet article for examination.

"Well," Fred concluded, after reading it. "If she ever comes after you, I'll be kicking some granny arse."

* * *

After a particularly gruelling Charms exam on a Friday, Amelia decided to take a study break and mental vacation on Saturday by going to Hogsmeade to try and clear her head. She had originally planned to go alone, of course, but that plan was quickly chucked out the window when Fred, George, Lee, Phoebe, Leanne, Cedric and Herb all decided that they were going to go as well. The thought of them all being together made Amelia grumble mentally - she knew Cedric wasn't all that fond of Fred and vice versa, which was stupid. She wished they'd both get over it, because she felt it was just so juvenile of them, and it made her feel like some kind of object rather than a person.

Either way, she was in Hogsmeade now, wearing one of the jumpers Fred's mum had knitted him, one with a big 'F' plastered across her chest, over the thin Beatles t-shirt she, for some reason, thought would be appropriate to wear. It wasn't, at all, and she was chilled as soon as she went outside. At least Fred was there, and he'd thought to wear multiple layers, with a shirt on beneath his jumper, and kindly allowed Amelia to borrow it for the day. He seemed to be starting to understand how to be a boyfriend, finally.

"You know, you look quite good in that, Honeycutt," Fred winked playfully, as he reached for her hand while they made their way through the Hogsmeade streets.

"Better get used to it," George piped up before she could. "Mum'll probably knit you one this Christmas too. She knits them for nearly everyone."

"In your family, yeah," Amelia said. Sidetracked, she stopped to stare at some jewelry in a shop window.

"Merlin, you've got some expensive taste," Fred deadpanned, glancing through the window with her.

"I'm just looking," she replied in a playfully defensive sort of manner.

"No, girls never 'just look,'" Lee said, shaking his head. "Better start saving your Knuts, Fred."

"Trust me, I just look, Lee," Amelia replied lightly.

"I like looking, too," Phoebe chimed in.

She'd been trailing behind the group a little ways, as she usually did, seeing as she walked and looked at everything in awe and really took her time taking in her surroundings. She looked rather loony, and her rats, rainbow nails, and leaves in her hair didn't help her to look anything but.

"She's kind of an airhead, is she, mate?" Lee asked under his breath, looking to George.

"No," George replied, shaking his head. "She's kind of airy-fairy, but she's brilliant. Take my word."

"Hmph," Lee sighed, raising his eyebrows sufficiently.

"Besides, money never made much sense to me," Phoebe mused, tracing hearts into the mist on the store window generated by her breath. "We measure the worth of stuff with little metal coins, but why? Why is value based on those?"

"See?" George smirked. "Brilliant."

"More like mad," Lee disagreed.

"You know, I think I'd prefer to be mad," Phoebe said, facing Lee. A rat of hers fell into the damp ground, and she lovingly picked it back up, kissing its little head before placing it back in the folds of her scarf. "Lunatics have all the fun, y'know. There's no fun in being normal, Lee."

"Yeah, you've never exactly been normal, have you, Pheebs?" came the unmistakable voice of Herb, as he, Ced, who was now accompanied by Cho, Leanne, and Katie Bell approached. "You're a little space cadet, you are."

"Thanks," Phoebe grinned brilliantly, as if it was the best thing she'd heard in her life.

After giving Phoebe a slight look, Cedric cleared his throat, and adjusted his arm around Cho's waist, as he inquired, "Er….care to join us for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Maybe later," Amelia responded. "I wanted to go to Maestro's."

"Oh, sure thing," Cedric nodded quickly. "Sure, sure."

"Maestro's?" Fred inquired, looking down upon Amelia. "I'll go there with you. Don't think I've actually been in there, to be honest."

"Lovely, I'm looking forward to forcing some Muggle music on you," Amelia smirked, popping a little bubble with her fruity gum.

"You're adorable when you try to look menacing, Honeycutt," Fred smirked playfully in return. "You're like a little mouse pretending to be a lion. Absolutely adorable."

"Well, you two lovebirds better get a move on, eh?" George suggested lightheartedly, placing a hand on Fred and Amelia's shoulders. "Don't worry, 'Melia, I'll make sure Phoebe doesn't wander off into the Forbidden Forest."

With that, Fred and Amelia bid goodbye the George and Phoebe and all the others that had squished themselves around the shop window. Hand-in-hand, they made their way towards Maestro's, and went inside, the little bells tinkling over their head as they went through the door. From behind the counter where he tuned a cello with his wand, Maestro nodded to greet Amelia and Fred, while they made their way to the back corner with all the Muggle music boxes Amelia loved.

She opened the top to another Jimi Hendrix box, this time, the one for Are You Experienced? "Foxy Lady" started playing, as the little figurines of Jimi and his bandmates started performing on the tiny stage within the box. Amelia couldn't help but to smile.

"This bloke really wasn't a wizard?" Fred asked, leaning in to get a better listen.

"Nope," Amelia verified lowly. "Pure Muggle."

"Wow, pretty good. Loads better than that Celestina Warbeck rubbish my mum blasts constantly," Fred informed her. "Why do you like music so much anyways?"

"I don't like it all that much," she shrugged. "It's just something to do during holidays when I can't do magic. It's relaxing."

"The words 'foxey lady' relax you?" Fred asked, waggling his eyebrows. "I'll have to keep that one in mind, Honeycutt."

"You're the worst, Weasley," she countered, elbowing him in the ribs with a grin.

"Why is it that you call George George but you call me, the one you've been snogging, Weasley?" he continued.

"Because he calls me Amelia and you call me Honeycutt," she said. "Anyway, c'mon, we'll meet the rest of them for butterbeers, eh?"

"You're really going to make me sit with Diggory?" Fred groaned, slipping his arms around her waist. "If he looks at you, I swear to Godric, I'll punch him."

"Stop being such an ape!" Amelia requested, punching him in the chest.

"Hypocrite," he winked. Kissing her forehead, he added, "My favorite hypocrite, though."

"Thanks," she muttered, cheeks crimson. "Let's go."

She turned towards the door to go, but was stopped by Fred tugging at her wrist.

"What?"

Wiggling the music box playfully, Fred said, "I know you want it, and we're not leaving without it."

"Don't," she protested. "Really. I appreciate it, but don't."

"Its your money," he told her. "Got it from selling gags to the first years. It's fine."

Though she protested heavily, he eventually convinced her, and they left, hand in hand, both smiley, as Amelia clutched the music box to her chest. As soon as they opened the door, they found none other than Maggie Mae, sitting right there, meowing loudly up at her owner.

Confused, but always the motherly figure to her cat, Amelia bent down and lifted her into her arms, kissing her fluffy head. Fred reached over to pet her, but was immediately swatted at with a sharp-clawed paw he just was able to pull away from.

"What're you doing here, love?" Amelia inquired to the cat lovingly, in a baby tone.

"Trying to kill me, apparently," Fred deadpanned. "That cat never did like me."

"I don't blame her," Amelia winked. "I never did either."

"That's cold," Fred joked, clutching at his heart. "Even for a Hathorne."

Amelia shook her head, and started to walk away, saying, "You're truly an arse, Weasley."

She knew he was kidding, she really did, but it still bothered her. She wasn't proud of the fact that she was a Hathorne. She wished she wasn't.

"Hey! I'm only kidding!" Fred hollered, leaping out in front of her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, saying, "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have went there. I'm not holding it against you, Amelia."

Brilliantly, she grinned, and gave him a quick peck on the lips, the first time she'd initiated such a gesture in public.

"What was that for?" Fred asked, a bit in shock.

"You finally called me Amelia."

Chuckling, he mused, "I guess I did."


	29. Might Just Be a Keeper

**Hello all! **

**So, part one of this story is almost over...I can't believe I've written this much :) But, I have no intentions of stopping just yet. **

**Thank you all for your continued support, it truly does mean the world to me. Reviews, especially, are my lifeblood here on , so please don't be afraid to drop one off, or leave a question for me or any of the characters!**

**Speaking of questions, Ultimatefangurl1 left one for Maggie Mae...but unfortunately, Maggie can't answers questions, since she's just a cat...or is she? **

**Well, with the Final Task approaching, I'd like to ask you guys: do you think I'm planning on killing off Cedric or not? Leave your predictions with the rest of the reviews and comments :)**

**Love you all, and thanks for the support. **

**Here's the chapter.**

* * *

April finally finished, and May and early June seemed to come and go in a whirlwind. In this period of time, Amelia split her time between Cedric and Fred, mostly. She helped Cedric practice and prepare for the Final Task, which was quickly approaching. Though she really kicked his arse when it came to getting the spells and jinxes and whatnot down pat, she also tried to lighten the mood and get rid of some of his stress by reminding him about all the stupid, funny things that had happened over their years at Hogwarts.

There was the time during her second year, and Cedric's third, when they were playing Exploding Snap with Leanne and Herb, and Amelia held the cards so close to her face that when they exploded, they singed her eyebrows right off. The following year, Ced and Amelia were out by the lake, studying, and a when a group of Slytherins they didn't particularly like made their way by, Amelia hexed them so that they all sprouted monkey tails. It really threw them for a loop, and they all started wrestling each other, thinking the other one hexed them. Well, there were a lot of funny pranks on the Slytherins that Amelia had pulled over the years that she reminded Cedric of to lighten his mood - she'd turned their Quidditch team's eyebrows black and yellow before a match, she'd filled their common room with nifflers, she'd practiced many of her experimental gag spells on them, and much more.

On the flip side, when Amelia was with Fred, she introduced him to her favorite Muggle music, and the two of them pranked together. They managed, along with George, to fill up one of the heavily trafficked corridors with a kind of quicksand that got a handful of second-years stuck up to their chests. And, when George wasn't around to help them prank, Fred and Amelia had plenty of time to snog, and just talk.

Fred told her all about the Weasley clan - Bill, the oldest, who worked at Gringotts, Charlie, the dragon-whisperer, Percy, the one with "the stick up his arse," as Fred put it, he and George, "the two best Weasleys ever to grace the earth," even if he, Fred, was the better looking one. Then, there was Ron, the one with a bottomless pit for a stomach and who was still figuring everything out, and Ginny, the youngest, who Fred claimed just might be the most brilliant of them all. His dad, who he referred to as a "Muggle junk loving nutter" worked for the Ministry, and his mother was "the most terrifyingly lovely woman."

She simply laughed and said she couldn't wait to meet them.

About a week before the Final Task was set to happen, Amelia decided she'd better go and check in on Harry, to make sure that he was as ready as he could possibly. As she'd stated earlier, she wanted a Hogwarts champion. Sure, she slightly preferred Cedric, just because of their friendship, but she was rooting for Harry was well. So, she found him, Hermione Granger, and Ron in the library one day, and decided to stop by.

"Hello," she greeted, with her usual warm smile. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"No, go ahead," Harry told her with a slight smile in response.

"Oh, Amelia, I haven't asked you to join S.P.E.W yet, have I?" Hermione asked brightly. "Here, one moment…"

Rolling his eyes, Ron muttered, "Merlin, I thought you'd finally come off of that stupid spew rubbish."

"It's not rubbish! And it's not stupid!" Hermione screeched in response. Regaining herself, she told Amelia, "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Gee, just when I thought you two had started to get along again," Amelia chuckled, crossing her arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked.

"Well, last time I had a real conversation with Hermione, at the Yule Ball, you two were having quite a row, if I recall," she replied with a wink.

"Well, so did you and Fred," Ron countered.

"Yeah, but learn a lesson from Fred and I - admit your feelings, snog, and you'll soon start seeing the world through rose-colored glasses," she joked, winking again. Seeing he didn't quite get the joke, she dropped the grin, cleared her throat, and then told Hermione, "Er, sure, I'd love to join spew."

"S.P.E.W," Hermione corrected. "It's just that I don't think elves are treated fair, you know, they're just like slaves….anyway, it's a sickle to join, and if I could get you to sign your name here…."

Amelia coughed up a sickle and signed Hermione's parchment. She agreed, house elves were mostly treated like rubbish, but she didn't bother trying to tell Hermione that no matter how unjust it was, it was how house elves liked things. After signing, Amelia received a S.P.E.W badge from Hermione, which she then pinned to the front of her Hufflepuff yellow sweater.

"Anyway, the reason I came over here to talk to you was to see if you're ready for the Final Task, Harry," Amelia told him. "If not, and you want to cram some stuff in, I'd be happy to help you out."

"Oh, that's really nice, but I think I'm pretty well prepared," Harry replied. "Hermione's been teaching me loads of stuff - Impediment Curse, Reductor Curse, Four-Point Spell, Jelly Legs Jinx, Shield Charms and more."

"Ah, should've known the brilliant Hermione Granger would have your back, Harry," Amelia said, causing Hermione's cheeks to flush. "No, Hermione, I mean it, you're really brilliant. And I'll be rooting for you on the 24th, alright, Harry?"

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

* * *

June 24th, the Final Task.

Amelia entered the Great Hall that morning with Cedric, who was on edge, very understandably so. There was the Task that evening, after all.

"Oh, cheer up Ced, tonight's the night you'll win it!" Herb hollered as they sat across from him and Leanne at the table.

His hollering got all the rest of the Hufflepuffs riled up and screaming and cheering, but they finally settled down at Cedric's direction.

"I haven't won yet, Herb," Cedric said, pouring himself some tea. "Don't jinx me."

"But you're sure to win," Leanne piped up. "Fleur Delacour's just a pretty face, Krum has an empty head….Potter could win, but only by cheating like he does, y'know…."

"Harry doesn't cheat," Amelia said in defense of the fourth year student.

Leanne rolled her eyes. "That's your opinion."

"Well, just drop it, alright?" Cedric requested. "I'm tired of hearing about Potter. I've been hearing loads about him from my dad, and I'm sure I'll be hearing more today. He's still mad that Skeeter woman left me out of the Daily Prophet article all those months ago when she wrote him as the only champion, but honestly, I don't even care. I just want to survive the bloody thing."

"You'll win, mate," Herbert assured him, buttering his toast. "I can feel it."

"Are you having visions of the future?" Amelia prodded. "Should I start calling you Trelawney?"

"You think you're hilarious, don't you?" Herb deadpanned, narrowing his eyes. "I guess that's what happens when you spend all your time snogging a Weasley."

"Arse," Amelia snapped, launching a strip of bacon at his head, which stuck to his cheek.

They both stared at each other for a moment, before the two of them, Leanne, and Cedric all started laughing hysterically, and then went about with their breakfasts. Amelia noticed Fred giving her a thumbs-up from across the way at the Gryffindor table, in apparent approval for her retaliation against Herbert.

Cedric went off to greet his mum and dad, who had come to watch the Task, once they'd finished eating.

After enduring a few boring exams they had in place of the formal O. , Amelia and her fellow classmates re-entered the Great Hall for lunch. She felt rather brain-dead, as if she could not possibly handle any more thinking, but sighed, knowing she still had more exams after lunch.

"Amelia, my girl!" came the unmistakeable voice of Mr. Diggory, Cedric's father.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Diggory," Amelia replied, as she was squashed in his arms in a bone-crushing hug. "Good to see you, sir."

"Same to you, same to you," he continued, with his usual radiant smile. From over his shoulder, she saw Cedric mouth, 'sorry,' to her.

"You look like such a young lady now!" Mrs. Diggory told her, beaming, as she hugged her as well. Holding Amelia at shoulder's length, she continued, "Last time I saw you, last Easter holiday, you were such a little twiggy thing! Now look at you! Has anyone took you shopping for….you know, lady things?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," Amelia replied.

Again, Cedric mouthed, 'sorry,' but this time, looked much more apologetic. Amelia laughed.

"C'mon, join us for lunch, won't you dear?" Mrs. Diggory then requested, tugging lovingly at Amelia's arm. She helped her into the bench seat next to Cedric at the Hufflepuff table, saying, "There you go, right next to Cedric….Ceddy, dear, I'll sit next to you, Amos, darling, you can sit across from us….there we go…."

They all sat, and began chatting about the school year and whatnot, while starting their lunch. Herb joined the conversation, as was his way, though he talked through most of it with his mouth full. Mrs. Diggory didn't look too impressed, and Cedric and Amelia laughed at him and her reaction beneath their breaths as they stuck their heads down into the plates.

Lunch was nearly done with, and Cedric and his parents decided to head off a bit early so that he could really give them a nice look around the castle. As soon as they were up and heading out of the hall, Amelia felt a familiar tap on her shoulder - Fred.

"Can I help you?" she inquired sarcastically, swiveling around to greet him.

"I was waiting for you to be done charming the pants off the Diggorys," he told her. "And now that you're done, come meet my mum."

"Oh yeah, you've got to meet your mother in law," Herb joked with a wink.

"Shut it," Amelia warned lightheartedly. Her cheeks were bright red and her heart was pounding, as she swiveled back to face Fred. "Er….you want me to meet your mum?"

"My mum, and my brother Bill," Fred responded. "Y'know, the one who works at Gringotts?"

"Yeah, I know," Amelia nodded. Lowly, she then said, "I don't know if that's the best idea."

"Why?"

"I stutter when I'm nervous," she admitted, embarrassed. "...I make horrible first impressions…."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, love, c'mon," Fred responded, tugging on her hands. "Look, they're all waiting."

Looking over his shoulder, she did indeed see who she presumed to be his mother and brother Bill, with long hair and earrings, looking at her with bright, expectant smiles as his mother waved. Her heart pounded once again. She knew there wasn't anything she could do to get out if it now.

"Fine," she grumbled, now allowing Fred to tug her up from her seat. "But I'm not responsible if they hate me."

"They won't hate you," he assured her, rolling his eyes. "C'mon."

Nearly holding her breath from the nerves, she allowed Fred to guide her over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry, Hermione, Ron, George, Ginny, Bill and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting. George gave her a smirk and a wink as she approached, and she wasn't quite sure about how she felt about that.

"Mum, Bill, this is Amelia," Fred proceeded to introduce, presenting her to his family.

Nervous, cheeks flushed, Amelia mustered her best grin and gave a slight wave.

"Nice to meet you, dear," Mrs. Weasley piped up, rising to her feet as she gave Amelia a warm handshake and accompanying smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, really, don't look so nervous! I've only heard good things about you, and if you're getting my Fred to settle down a bit, then, well, I have to thank you."

"Oh, thanks, but I don't know if anyone would be able to get Fred to settle down," Amelia replied honestly.

She was smiling for real now, something about Mrs. Weasley was just so comforting that she felt genuinely comfortable around her, not at all how she expected she would feel.

"Smart girl," Bill nodded in approval as he stood to shake her hand while his mother still chuckled at her comment. "Nice to meet you, Amelia. Bill."

"Nice to meet you too," she responded, feeling his strong-gripped handshake.

Seeing that the Great Hall was beginning to clear out now, she sighed, and then apologized, "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Weasley and Bill, it was lovely to meet you, but I've got to go take my Potions exam."

"Not to worry, dear," Mrs. Weasley assured her kindly. "We wouldn't want to make you late," with a wink, she then added, "You've got to do well on all your exams to become a Healer. From what I've heard, though, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Oh, thanks," Amelia replied brightly. "Pleasure to meet you, I'll be seeing you tonight at the Task?"

"Course," Bill nodded.

"Good luck, love," Fred bid her, along with a quick kiss that made her cheeks even more crimson.

"Fred Weasley!" she scolded under her breath, embarrassed that he'd just done that in front of his family and everyone else in the Hall. "Sometimes, I really can't believe you, you know that?"

"I know," he nodded, with a smirk.

As she turned, to catch up with Leanne as she exited the hall, she heard Bill remark, "Well, from what I've seen, you just might've found yourself a keeper, Freddie."


	30. The Real Hogwarts Champion

**So, chapter 30, and part one is almost finished :)**

**I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. **

**Check the end of this chapter for a big question/prediction. :)**

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"

The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky.

"In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!"

More applause.

"And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Amelia mumbled, looking out over the Quidditch pitch, which was now unrecognizable.

For the Final Task, they'd created an eerie hedge maze, which looked nothing short of frightening. The Champions were all assembled in front of different openings in the hedges, looking nervous and anxious, rightly so, each with a death grip on their wands. Amelia could only imagine what Cedric and Harry were feeling, since she felt like she was about to have a heart attack and she was only watching up in the stands.

She was squished between Phoebe and Fred, in the middle of the groups supporting Cedric and Harry. Fred's arms were around her, trying to comfort her, though it was a rather useless attempt in the situation. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were in the row in front of them. Hermione and Ron were jammed next to Fred on her right, along with Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, Ginny, Katie, Alicia and Lee. Herb was above her and to her left, obnoxiously leading the Hufflepuff crowd in cheering for Cedric. They'd brought back the POTTER STINKS buttons for the occasion. Amelia would've threatened them with detentions, but now, she knew it was useless, especially at the end of the year.

As Dumbledore finished talking to the champions, Amelia saw Cedric take one look up into the stands, nodding to his parents and to her. When they made eye contact, Amelia mouthed, 'love you, good luck,' to him, but of course, only in a sisterly fashion. He did the same to her, and with the best smile he could muster, then turning back to the hedge opening before him.

"So….on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" announced Bagman. "Three….two….one!"

Bagman blew the whistle, and Harry and Cedric immediately dashed through their respective entrances into the maze. As they disappeared into the unknown, the plants that created the maze closed behind them, as if they'd just been shut into another world.

While Amelia and Hermione dug their fingernails into their cheeks with anxiety and fear for their friends, all of the other students erupted in massive screams, cheers, wails and applause. Fred, George, and Herb were the loudest, of course.

"Now, Mr. Krum, wait for the whistle!" Bagman instructed.

Krum nodded, ready. As soon as Bagman blew the whistle, he was off.

Last but not least was Fleur Delacour, who sprinted into the maze, seemingly trying to make up for her lost time.

"I can't take it," Amelia muttered, starting to chew on her nails. "I can't see them, I have no idea what's going on in there….I can't take this."

"Cheer up, love!" Fred told her. He, along with almost everyone else, was in high spirits. "He's made it this far, hasn't he? And they've modified the Tournament so that no one'll die anymore, so…."

"You never liked him," Amelia mumbled.

"Why would I like him?" Fred countered. "You've spent holidays at his house, he's with you more than I am, and he completely fancies you."

"So you want to see him die?"

"No….c'mon, Amelia, let's not fight."

She opened her mouth, but her shut her up with a kiss, and….well, she couldn't fight with him after that.

"I'm still rooting for Harry, though," Fred winked down at her.

"Fair enough," she shrugged with a smirk.

"What exactly are we supposed to be watching here?" Phoebe inquired, petting a rat absentmindedly. "I can't see them through the hedges."

Hermione, who had only just met Phoebe but already thought she was a bit odd, replied, "I know, it's driving me mad!"

"C'mon Harry!" Ron shouted, clapping his hand together.

Behind them, Herbert led the Hufflepuffs in a counter-chant, having them all scream, "DIG-GOR-Y! DIG-GOR-Y! DIG-GOR-Y! ALL HAIL DIG-GOR-Y!"

"That's the spirit!" Mr. Diggory encouraged, looking over his shoulder to the Hufflepuff crowd.

Looking up, Amelia noticed Cho standing with Leanne. She supposed she and Ced had made up again. She vaguely recalled Phoebe mentioning it to her.

"Are you rooting for Cedric as well, Phoebe?" George asked, shouting over the noise.

"No," Phoebe shook her head. "I think I'd like to see Fleur win. Underdog, y'know. And a girl champion, that'd be nice."

Raising his eyebrow, George couldn't help but to chuckle, "You're brilliantly mad."

She didn't reply, only vaguely smiled, as she fed a black rat a carrot from her jacket pocket. Her jacket was a shade of yellow that to many was a true eyesore, but Phoebe found it quite lovely. She also wore her Hufflepuff-colored scarf, which she'd poorly knitted herself after Amelia tried to teach her, and her ears were adorned with shamrock earrings that she told everyone were given to her by the leprechauns that lived in her garden at home. Nobody really knew if this was true.

"Phoebe, you've got twigs in your hair," Hermione informed her upon noticing.

"I know," Phoebe replied. "They're supposed to be there."

Hermione looked at Phoebe as if she had fifteen heads, sighed, and then looked back to the hedges. In front of them, on the grass, the Beauxbatons students were playing light, ethereal kind of instruments, as a group of girls did an impressive kind of acrobatic dance.

"Now that's what I like to see!" Lee screamed in approval, clapping his hands. "Look at those French girls, mate!"

"Why would I be looking at the French girls when I've got the best looking girl in the world right here?" Fred asked with a smirk and a wink towards Amelia.

"Don't be so sarcastic," she shot back, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Ouch! I reckon you've worked on your punches and jabs," Fred chuckled. "But, no sarcasm there. Only the truth."

And at that moment, Amelia admitted something to Fred she never thought she'd ever admit to anyone in her life.

"You know, I think I love you, Fred Weasley."

As soon as she did, she saw Fred's warm brown eyes pop open with what seemed like shock, before he swallowed some of the shock, and then, in his usual fashion, asked, "You think you love me, or you love me?"

She swallowed her own pride at that moment, and allowed herself to be vulnerable, as she, even with all the noise around them, just barely whispered, "I love you."

Fred's eyes popped open once again, but then his expression faded to the cutest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen on his face, or anyone's face, as he told her, "I love you, too."

They didn't even kiss, they just hugged, for what felt like the longest and shortest time. For a moment, Amelia forget that they were in the stands watching and waiting for the conclusion of the Final Task, and all she could think about was that she loved somebody in a romantic sense and they did her, too. It was kind of an amazing feelings, to be a teen in love, much better than she ever thought it would be.

"Kiss, for Merlin's sake!" George urged them, nearly knocking Fred's head into hers.

"KISS, KISS, KISS!" chanted both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff crowds, catching the attention of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students as well.

So, giving in, Fred grabbed her by the cheeks and pulled her in for a whirlwind of a kiss that left her dizzy upon release, so much so that she continued to forget about the Task and the fact that Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were right there and she should've been in embarrassed. She just didn't care, she was so in love, and it was new and exhilarating and wonderful.

"Who's the real Hogwarts champion, eh?!" Fred hollered, getting everyone riled up and cheering for the two of them, as a pink-faced Amelia giggled and hid her face in his chest.

"Harry's back!" someone shouted, deflecting the attention towards the pitch. "HARRY - CEDRIC - THEY'RE BACK!"

Indeed they were, both splayed out on the ground, the glowing Cup in Harry's hand. Dumbledore and the other adults sprinted to their aid as the stands really erupted in thunderous applause and cheering, so loud Amelia thought she'd go deaf.

Looking to the pitch, she saw Harry was delirious, and Dumbledore was doing his best to subdue him and settle him down.

Cedric, however, had not moved.

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**DID CEDRIC DIE? DID I DECIDE TO KILL HIM? LEAVE YOUR PREDICTION BEFORE THE NEXT CHAPTER COMES OUT!**


	31. Remember Cedric Diggory

**Well, I'm guessing by the title of this chapter, you all figured it out :)**

**Alright, so I'm planning on one more chapter in the GoF arc, and we're almost there! I still can't believe how much support you lovely people have shown for me and this fic, and I honestly cannot express how much it means to me. Knowing you guys like what I do means the world to me, and your reviews truly bring a smile to my face and brighten my day, so please don't be afraid to drop one off!**

**Thanks again guys, and stay tuned for the conclusion of Amelia's fifth year, and the beginning of her sixth in the upcoming OotP arc!**

**Enjoy, and remember you're all lovely!**

* * *

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," began Dumbledore. "But, I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," pausing he gestured towards the Hufflepuff table. "Enjoying our feast with us. I would like you, all, please, to stpand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

Everyone obeyed.

Fred took the chance, and looked over to the Hufflepuff table, where he saw Amelia. The seat between her and Herbert Fleet was empty. Her face was a mess - eyes bloodshot, with great bags indicating her lack of sleep beneath them. Her bottom lip was a bit raw, indicating she'd been chewing it, and Fred noticed the bloodied tips of her fingers around the nails as she raised her goblet. She'd been biting her nails and cuticles again, no doubt. Her hair was down and a mess, almost as bad as Phoebe's normally looked. She looked bloody awful, understandably so, and all he wanted to do was help. All she did was avoid him.

"Cedric Diggory," recited everyone in the hall, solemnly so.

Dumbledore continued, saying, "Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house. He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

From across the way, Fred watched, in agony himself, as he saw Amelia started to cry again. Phoebe reached for her hand, and allowed Amelia to rest her head on her shoulder. Fred would've given nearly anything to swap places with Phoebe in that moment.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Panic immediately rose in the hall, and Amelia's tears really began to stream down her face, as she fell into a group hug with Phoebe at the helm, and Herbert and Leanne joining in. Everyone else whispered in a rush, stricken with that panic, staring at Dumbledore, who, of course, hadn't lost his cool.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore picked up, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Everyone had shut up now, with the exception of a few Slytherins, to stare at Dumbledore.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death - I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

Heads now flickered between Dumbledore and Harry, who was very meekly occupying his space at the Gryffindor table.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

With that, people raised their goblets again, toasting both Cedric and Harry before sipping their drinks.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.

"Remember Cedric Diggory."

After many of the people had cleared out of the Great Hall to go and pack their things before returning home, Harry lingered at his seat at the Gryffindor table. His mind was reeling, but of course it would be reeling….he'd watched Cedric die, murdered by Voldemort….Voldemort was back, and so were the Death Eaters….and he'd seen - in a way - his parents….and Moody was never Moody at all, but Barty Crouch Jr., who'd been sending him straight to Voldemort the whole school year….

"Harry?"

Snapping his head up as he forced himself back to the now-bitter reality, he saw Amelia standing before him, looking like an absolute mess.

"Oh, er, hi, Amelia," he stumbled awkwardly.

She paused, and seemed to take a big breath of air, before tears started dripping down her cheeks once again. Finally, she just spit it out, saying, "Harry, please….please, tell me how he died. I have to know. Everything."

He stared at her for a moment, before asking, "You want to know….everything?"

"Yes," she nodded furiously, chewing her bottom lip. "I've got to know, it's eating me alive, Harry, he was my best friend….imagine if you lost Ron or Hermione….please, I've just got to know."

She was truly hysterical now, sinking down to sit on the bench across from him, and took a moment to sob uncontrollably, before gathering herself together the best she could and looking to Harry, waiting.

"Well," Harry began, drawing a breath. "He was….he was getting attacked by this plant thing….it was swallowing him up, so I….it took me a moment, but I decided to blast the plant off of him. He thanked me….we both came upon the Cup at the same time. He told me to take it, since I'd saved his life, I told him to quit being noble….we decided we'd take it together, so we did….

"We didn't know it, but the Cup was a Portkey….we landed in this god-awful cemetery….and he - Voldemort - was there, in this bloody ugly little mangled form, carried by Wormtail….He - Cedric….put up his wand, trying to protect us, but Voldemort….Voldemort….he made Wormtail kill him….

"Then, Wormtail did this ritual thing - it brought Voldemort back to life, full form and all. He summoned the Death Eaters, and tried to kill me in front of them like it was some sort of show….he aimed the Killing Curse at me but it locked with the Disarming Spell I cast at him….and, well, Dumbledore called it 'priori incantatem' happened….I saw my parents, other people he'd killed, and Cedric, they were ghostly, like echoes….he told me to bring his body back to his parents….he h-h-he told me…."

"Told you what?!" Amelia asked desperately. "What, what was it?"

Harry nearly choked on the next words he uttered.

"He told me….besides to bring his body to his parents….he told me….told me to tell you….he loved you…."

Amelia's expression changed drastically, but in a way that Harry had no idea what kind of emotion she was feeling. She just stood, nodded, wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, and thanked him and congratulated him before walking off.

Fred was waiting for her outside the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Amelia!" he hollered, as she just walked past him without even as much as a glance in his direction.

No reply. She just kept walking, hanging onto Phoebe for support/comfort.

Fred dashed out in front of the two girls, causing them to come to a dead halt in their tracks. Amelia wasn't even looking at him, she was just clinging to Phoebe, head buried in her shoulder, crying, the awful kind of cries that made her chest heave and her breaths ragged.

"Amelia, please, won't you talk to me?" Fred requested soothingly.

She still didn't reply, only lingered in Phoebe's arms for comfort - it looked a little strange, considering she had such a height advantage over her dark haired friend.

"I'm sorry, love, I know this is hard, but, won't you just talk to me?" Fred requested again.

No answer.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out for her shoulder, in what he thought would be a comforting gesture, but she slapped him away before he even made contact. Abashed, he took a step back.

"I'm sorry," Phoebe said in that cool, airy-fairy voice of hers. "She doesn't want to talk, Fred. She can't right now."

Fred gave Phoebe the slightest of nods, before watching the two Hufflepuff girls disappear down the corridor. He then felt a comforting hand on his own shoulder - George.

"Don't give up on her yet, mate."

"I wouldn't dream of giving up on her."

After the Durmstrang students had left in their ship, and the Beauxbatons students had taken flight in their carriage, the Hogwarts students were packing up, and heading for the Hogwarts Express. Most were still in their dormitories, packing their trunks, like Amelia.

She stood, staring into her open trunk, with Maggie Mae in her arms. Being the smart half-kneazle she was, Maggie sensed her owner's sadness, and hadn't left her side lately. As she was being held, she purred, looking up at Amelia who was staring down into her trunk at a black and yellow Quidditch jersey with - DIGGORY, CAPTAIN on the back. She'd borrowed Cedric's spare one last year to wear to a match, and only just now realized she'd neglected to return it to him.

"Amelia, come, now," Phoebe said lightly, taking Amelia's hand in her small one. "You can't dwell here forever, can you?"

Amelia shook her head.

Closing her trunk for her, Phoebe said, "That's it. C'mon now - the train's waiting."

Amelia nodded, and followed Phoebe from the dormitories, trunk in tow. She took one last look back at the Hufflepuff common room, wondering if it'd ever be the same again without Cedric.


	32. Ends and Beginnings

**WE MADE IT, FRIENDS! This chapter marks the end of the ****_Goblet of Fire _****arc, meaning the next chapter will begin the ****_Order of the Phoenix _****arc!**

**I wouldn't have been able to do it without you guys, whose continuous support through the writing of this fic has meant the world to me, truly. You're all lovely people, and I'll never be able to say that enough. (But, please don't be afraid to review! I LOVE reviews!)**

**Without further adieu, I'll let you read the chapter - then check the end for more from me**

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Amelia did not say a word on the entire train ride to Platform 9 ¾. She just sat, silent, in the window seat, staring blankly at the passing scenery, while clutching Maggie Mae close to her chest for some kind of comfort. Once in a while, Maggie would need to stretch her legs, and would wander over to Phoebe, who sat next to Amelia, for a scratch, or down to the floor to bat at Herb's shoelaces. Leanne had fallen asleep some time ago, and all four of the Hufflepuff students had locked themselves in their compartment, not wanting to be bothered by the rest of the student body.

The four of them were the ones closest to Cedric, specifically Amelia and Herbert. It hit them the hardest, understandably, and they wanted their alone time. In some strange way, they found some sort of solace with each other, even if they were silent. They supposed it was because they knew how much Cedric meant to the other, and just sitting, going through the rough times together, meant something to them, even if they couldn't quite place their fingers on it.

Fred paced by the Hufflepuffs' compartment quite a few times, to no avail. He peeked in from time to time, and even gave a couple of knocks. Nobody looked at him but Phoebe, who gave him an apologetic head shake as she fed her rats.

"It's really driving you nuts, not being able to talk to her, isn't it?" George inquired as his brother re-entered the compartment they'd been sharing with Lee.

"You could say that a few hundred more times," Fred deadpanned, collapsing across from George. Lee was gone, Fred assumed he'd gone to the loo.

"Well, this won't make anything better with Amelia, but look here, mate," George then said, pulling a bag of….money? out from behind his back.

"What….?" Fred muttered, confused, as he felt the weight of the bag in his hands. He pulled it open a bit, revealing shiny galleons, and his eyes darted back to his brother. "No."

"Yes," George nodded, smirking. "Harry came in and gave it to me, just before you came in. Told me he didn't want it - wanted us to have it, to open up our joke shop."

"You're kidding," Fred stated, slack-jawed. George shook his head, and Fred remarked, "He is mental."

"He is mental," George agreed, nodding. Changing the subject, he asked, "Did you get a chance to see what we did to Malfoy and his goons?"

"Yeah," Fred chuckled. "Nearly tripped on them coming in here."

"I think he looks good with face tentacles, personally," George commented, leaning back in the seat. "Harry used the Furnunculus Curse and I used Jelly Legs Jinx - nice effect, don't you think?"

"Brilliant," Fred winked in agreement, only temporarily distracted.

After what seemed like the longest train ride of everyone's lifetime, they finally arrived at King's Cross. Heartfelt goodbyes were shared amongst the four Hufflepuffs, before Leanne went with her parents, Herb with his uncle, and Phoebe with her parents. That left Amelia, alone, to wait for the next train to Eastleigh.

She took a seat on an empty bench, Maggie in her lap, as she picked the bloody cuticles on her fingers. She watched as other students lingered, waiting for parents and guardians, and saying goodbye to one another.

Suddenly, Maggie burst from her lap, sprinting smartly through the crowds.

"Maggie!" hollered Amelia, jumping to her feet after her cat. "Maggie, stop that! Get back here!"

Completely forgetting about her belongings, she did her best to politely shove her way through the crowd, after Maggie, who was now a blur of black and white fur. She was caught, just as suddenly as Maggie had started to run off, and found herself in someone's arms - Fred's, to be specific.

"Fred, I don't have time for this, please, c'mon," she begged, trying to keep her eye on Maggie as she wriggled in his grip, to no avail.

"I just want you to know I'm here for you," he told her. "Seriously."

For just a fraction of a moment, she paused. She knew she just had to say it, it wasn't fair to him if she didn't. She gulped down some air, and decided just to spit it out.

"I don't think we should be doing this anymore," she told him, staring at the toes of her worn out Chucks.

"What?!" Fred exploded, as if he was shocked.

Amelia felt many of the eyes in the area turn to focus on her, and her cheeks flared.

Nervously, she finally twisted from his grip, and repeated, but more firmly said, "I don't think we should be doing this anymore."

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked. She couldn't tell if he was hurt or enraged.

"Yeah," she shrugged, feeling pins and needles in her own heart as she uttered the word. "Yeah, I am."

"Why?" he continued. "I thought….the other day you told me you loved me!"

"I do," she admitted, unable to meet her eyes with his. "I do, but there's too much going on right now. I have too much to think about right now….and honestly, it's not fair to you, or me, or either of us. So, for now, I don't think we should….date anymore."

With that, she left, doing her best to prevent herself from crying anymore, as she raced off in the direction she'd seen Maggie Mae sprint in. She felt like crying, but at the same time she didn't have any tears left in her to cry. She'd cried over Cedric, her now deceased best friend, and now she wanted to cry over Fred, who she'd just broken up with, even if she knew it was for the best.

A loud meow and hard cuff at her ankles made Amelia snap her attention back to reality, seeing Maggie Mae trying to get her attention down at her feet. Bending over, she attempted to grab her cat in one, swift motion, though she failed. Maggie was just too fast, and scrambled off towards a supply closet, where she slipped into via the door which was just barely cracked open.

"Damn cat," Amelia mumbled, frustrated, under her breath as she dashed off.

Carefully, trying not to attract the attention of the Muggles or anyone else at King's Cross, she slipped inside the supply closet after her cat. She switched the light on, revealing the dusty room full of cleaning supplies and tools.

"Maggie, come here," Amelia said softly, peering around the shelves for any sign of black and white fur.

Peering around the corner of one of the shelves, she noticed something that shocked her - feet. Not Maggie's dainty little cat paw feet, very human feet in black shoes. Terrified, but stunned in shock at the same time, Amelia stumbled backwards, unable to think or process. She had a vague thought in the back of her mind to pull her wand, but she was so paralyzed that she was unable to do so.

"Amelia, dear, please don't be afraid," came a voice. It was an old woman, unmistakably.

Amelia was still and silent as she watched the old woman emerge from the shadows. The old woman wore a simple, conservative gray dress that fell to her knees, a black peacoat, and black stockings to cover her legs with her plain black shoes. She held a black leather purse between her black leather gloved hands. Though it was clear she was older, she looked remarkably good for her age, her skin just barely wrinkled, and her blonde hair, which was slicked into a bun at the nape of her neck, was just beginning to fade to gray.

Her eyes, a striking blue, were what gave her away - she was Zinnia Hathorne, Amelia's grandmother, and she knew it.

"No," Amelia whispered, unable to stop staring at her, as she backed into the wall.

"Please, Amelia darling, don't be afraid," Zinnia said. She seemed sincerely sweet, even reflecting that notion in her eyes. "I'm not like your grandfather, your uncles. My own father, my own family….they were very, very prejudiced, married me off to Lucretius because I wanted to run away with a Muggle man, who I truly loved. I gave your mother to Eleanora Fairfax because it was what was best for her. You saw how she was treated, in the Pensieve. I never gave up on her, though - look."

Amelia watched, still shocked, but now more curious, as Zinnia fiddled with the ornate gold locket around her neck. She opened it, and with a nervous kind of smile, thrust it so that Amelia could see what was inside. It was a photo, a wizard photo, seeing how the occupants moved about. It was Zinnia, and her daughter, Amelia's mother, Callie, squished between Zinnia and Amelia's father, Ian. An infant Amelia stirred in Callie's arms, as Zinnia beamed down at the baby, and Ian adjusted the blanket around her face.

"For you," Zinnia said.

She placed the locket in Amelia's hand, and with her own warm, gentle hands, closed Amelia's fist around the piece of jewelry.

For what seemed like the millionth time in the past few days, Amelia burst into tears, and did something she never imagined she'd do - she ran to her grandmother's arms for comfort.

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**So, any final thoughts about the GoF arc? Any predictions for the OotP arc? PLEASE LEAVE THEM IN THE REVIEWS, MY FRIENDS! Thanks again :D**


	33. The Order of the Phoenix

**And so the OotP arc begins! Many things to be explained and discovered! I wouldn't have made it here without all you lovely people and your endless support, which truly means the world to me!**

**Can I just be blunt and beg for some reviews? Can we make it to an even 60 before I post the next chapter? **

**And, as always, don't be afraid to leave a question for me or any of the characters...or predictions, or what you'd like to see happen. **

**Thanks, guys, and enjoy the start of the next part of Amelia's journey!**

* * *

"Amelia, darling! Breakfast!"

Drowsily rolling over, Amelia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and sat up in her new bed. Since the beginning of the summer holiday, she'd moved out of Mrs. Fairfax's "orphanage" and into a small London flat with her grandmother, who was more wonderful than she could've ever imagined. Sure, it was awkward, at first, but at the same time, it wasn't. It didn't take Amelia and Zinnia very long to just let go and love each other.

It didn't take Amelia long to figure out that her initial impression of her grandmother, the impression that she was a gentle woman out of place with her rough husband and son, was right. Zinnia explained it all to her right there in that broom closet, using her own, itty bitty little Pensieve to validate her stories.

She grew up in the, as she put it, "ancient and most noble house of Garrod," one of the few surviving pureblood families. She was the only child. Her parents had wanted sons, big, strong sons, or even just one son would've done, but instead, they got a bookish and meek daughter who didn't at all have any of the Garrod traits. She was blue eyed and blonde, slender and lovely, physically a Garrod, but not at all having the personality of one.

She watched the Muggle children playing from her window, wishing that she could go and play with them, even if she knew there wasn't the slightest chance in hell that her parents would allow that to happen. She spent most of her time at home in her bedroom, glasses on the edge of her nose, which was almost always buried deep into a book. She read anything she could get her hands on, even Muggle books - which, surprisingly, her mother allowed her to have, if she didn't tell her father.

At Hogwarts, young, bespectacled Zinnia was sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin, bringing shame to the Garrod family name. During her years at the school she met many people she liked and became friends with, many of whom were also Muggle borns or Half-Bloods. This, and an amalgamation of other things Zinnia did to upset the Garrod way of life, that led to her running away when she'd graduated from Hogwarts, where she met a Muggle man she deeply fell in love with.

But, of course, her parents wouldn't allow that. Instead, they forced her to marry Lucretius Hathorne, and, well, Amelia knew the rest of the story.

Yawning, Amelia came back to reality threw her plaid comforter off of herself, and stood, her bare feet hitting the cool wooden floor. She glanced at herself in the floor-length mirror that hung on the back of her door, looking at her reflection, examining herself. She clutched and tugged at the gold locket from her grandmother, which hadn't been removed from her neck since being placed there. In the month or so she'd been out of school, she'd cut her hair, for starters. It used to be long and luxurious, but now was light and airy, her waves of honey-colored locks just scraping her shoulders.

She assumed she'd lost weight, seeing that Cedric's old Hufflepuff Quidditch jersey now seemed so baggy on her, as she had worn it to bed along with a pair of flannel shorts. She stepped forward to the mirror, and tugged the loose black and yellow fabric so that it fit tightly to her torso, revealing the newfound curves of her waist and chest. She cocked her head, unable to decide how she felt about seeing that part of herself reflected back at her.

From the mirror, she looked to her desk, where a pile of letters and mail sat. There were letters from Phoebe, Leanne, Herb, Hermione, George, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, and Fred. She'd replied to them all, except those from Fred. She couldn't bring herself to do so, especially with the box of Cedric's odds and ends sitting next to them.

Sighing, she dragged her hand across the top of the cardboard box Mrs. Diggory mailed to her. She peeked in, already knowing full well what was inside. There were a plethora of pictures of her and Ced, from all the Easter holidays she'd spent with the Diggorys, pictures of the two of them with Herb in Hogsmeade, and more. There was the copy of Tales of Beetle and the Bard Cedric had given her one year for Christmas, that she'd left behind at his house, and the Hufflepuff colored scarf she'd knitted him for a present in return. The last thing in there was one of Cedric's notebooks - his Charms notebook, to be specific. She hadn't been able to look that yet.

A small mewing noise and cuffing at her ankles awoke her from her daze. Looking down, she saw her new kitten, Lucy, trying to get her attention. Her grandmother had got her the kitten after she gave up on being Maggie Mae.

Amelia lifted Lucy into her arms. The baby cat barely weighed anything, being just a ball of pure black fluff, with the exception of the white stocking mark on her front left paw. One of her eyes was blue, the other gold-green, but both striking and intelligent. The woman at the Magical Menagerie said she was the runt of the litter, the only one she couldn't seem to sell. Lucy's mother was a kneazle, her father, half-kneazle.

"Morning, gran," Amelia greeted, toting Lucy into the tiny kitchen. "Yum, omelettes?"

"Ham and cheese, just how you like it," Zinnia grinned, pouring her granddaughter a glass of milk. "Jam or butter for your toast, dear?"

"Oh….," Amelia pondered, taking her plate and cup to the little table, while Lucy curled up on her lap. Amelia fed her kitten a bit of milk from her finger, before answering, "Butter today, thank you."

"Not a problem, dear," Zinnia smiled, joining her granddaughter at the table with the toast and butter.

Amelia began devouring the delicious breakfast her grandmother had prepared for her, while Ramses, Zinnia's loyal barn owl, landed on the table, an assortment of letters in his beak.

"Good boy," Zinnia praised, exchanging the letters for a small mouse Lucy had dragged in the house. Sorting through the mail, she mused, "Bill….nothing important….I'll set this aside for later….and….ah, for you, Amelia. From George."

"George?" Amelia inquired with a mouthful of omelette, accepting the letter into her hands. "Hm."

He'd written her at the beginning of summer, but not since. Fred had been the one that had been trying to reach her consistently. She wondered why he'd written - and also how the hell Ramses got a letter from him, if she hadn't written to him in the first place in weeks.

Sighing, she decided it'd be best for her to read it.

_Amelia -_

_I know I haven't replied to you in a while but I figured I should, we've got news. The money Harry gave us to start up our business has been put to good use. We've invented dozens of new products since we've been out of school! We've also decided to call it "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," for the alliteration effect, sorry you missed out. We'd still be more than happy to have you in on our endeavor, if you'd like, of course. Speaking of, those Extendable Ears from your notebook? Simply brilliant. They've been dead useful for us this summer. Great summer for starting up a business, we plan on having order forms and everything ready by the time school starts up again._

_We've had a productive beginning of summer, but poor Fred's still pretty heartbroken. You really did a number on the poor bloke. Really did break his heart. I understand you've had a hard time lately, but give him a chance, huh? I really can't take him all mopey like this much longer._

_Speaking of relationships, is it true Phoebe met some Muggle git in a record store?_

_See you soon!_

_Best,_

_The Better Looking Weasley Twin, George_

"See you soon?" Amelia repeated aloud, stroking Lucy's fuzzy head. "What's he mean by that? September's over a month away."

"He could consider that soon," Zinnia shrugged, picking up her mail as she left the table. "Time passes faster for some of us."

Grandmother and granddaughter were both silent, as Amelia finished her breakfast and stared down at George's letter, petting Lucy as well. Zinnia bustled about the kitchen, cleaning up the mess she'd made cooking by charming the utensils to clean themselves with her wand.

"Would you mind accompanying me to Diagon Alley today, dear?" Zinnia asked. "I've got to pick up a few things."

"Sure, just let me get dressed," Amelia nodded, rising.

"Of course," Zinnia smiled.

She waved her wand again and Amelia's dishes started cleaning themselves. Amelia kissed the top of Lucy's soft head, and set the little kitten back down on the ground, before ducking back into her room, where she dressed in simple jeans and a Beatles t-shirt with her Chucks. She attempted to run her fingers through her hair to no avail. It'd become even more unruly since she cut it shorter.

She decided to pen George a quick reply before heading out:

_George,_

_You think September is soon?_

_If you're making money off my inventions, yes, I want some money from it, mate._

_And yes, from what I gather from what Phoebe's written me, she has. His name is Elliott, and they met in the record store in town. He bought her a leprechaun gold engagement ring. Jealous?_

_See you in September, not SOON._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia_

With that, she and her grandmother left their little flat and headed for Diagon Alley, or at least, that's where Amelia thought they were headed. However, when they took a series of turns that Amelia knew for a fact did not lead to Diagon Alley, she became suspicious.

"Gran, where're we going?" she inquired. "This isn't how to go to Diagon Alley."

"I know, I need to make a quick stop before we go," Zinnia said, not making eye contact. "I'll be quick, dear, don't worry."

They approached a line of houses, and stopped, apparently to stare at them, seeing as Zinnia just stood there. Amelia stared at her grandmother, unamused, and absentmindedly tugged on her locket, which she had tucked under her t-shirt, right beneath Ringo's face. Hearing a strange kind of noise, she looked back to the houses, and saw something undeniably magical.

She watched as the two houses in the middle - #11 and #13 - separated, revealing the previously missing #12. Though she'd witnessed five, going on six, years of magic, it never failed to amaze her.

"Come, dear," Zinnia beckoned, approaching the door to the just-appeared house.

So she did, silent, with both nerves and amazement. What kind of person would be in there? She didn't know what kind of people her grandmother knew, but at least she didn't have to be scared she was walking into a room of Death Eaters.

After Zinnia knocked on the door in what seemed like a very particular pattern, it swung open on its own, allowing the two inside the dusty, eerie home. All Amelia could do was look around, and wonder why the hell they were here.

"_Disgusting blood traitors! Half-blood scum! Freaks! How dare you step into this house, this house of pure_ \- …."

"_SHUT UP_!" hollered a man's voice, loudly over the screeching of the woman.

A loud slamming noise followed, and the woman screeched no more. While Amelia looked a bit frightened, Zinnia only chuckled, seeming amused.

"I thought you said you'd find a way to shut her up for good, Sirius?" Zinnia continued to chuckle, guiding Amelia further into the house.

Upon entering one of the rooms, Amelia saw a dark, scraggly-haired man glaring at a set of black velvet curtains. He was dressed rather plainly, and had the kind of face that still maintained the handsomeness of his younger days, the better part of which had faded.

"I thought I would too, Zinnia," the man responded with a shrug. "With all the brilliant minds running in and out of here, you'd think one of us would've figured it out. I just assume rip her off and chuck her out, but she's really stuck to the way there, I've tried everything I can think of."

"You'll get there," Zinnia assured the man with a slight wink.

"I hope," he grumbled. Changing the subject, he just noted, "I see you've finally brought Amelia along."

"I thought she was ready," Zinnia replied. She then introduced the two, saying, "Amelia, this is Sirius Black."

"Pleasure," Sirius nodded, with a smile towards the young girl.

Sirius Black...she's brought me here to kill me!

It must've been rather evident how Amelia was feeling at that moment, because both Sirius and Zinnia chuckled at her, before she assured her granddaughter, "Amelia, darling, he's innocent. He didn't kill those Muggles and he didn't give up the Potters."

"But….how?" Amelia stumbled, unable to process what was happening.

"It's all very long and complicated," Sirius shrugged. "I'm sure someone will explain it all later, but I'm no mass murderer, in short, I - …."

"Sirius, we've found more doxies in the upstairs library," came a voice interrupting him. It was Molly Weasley, bursting into the room, as she continued, "We've got to get them out - Ginny trapped them in a drawer, but they're putting up quite a fight. Would you mind coming to help?"

"Need another two sets of hands, Molly?" Zinnia inquired.

"Zinnia!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed joyously, with her usual warm grin. Her grin faded just a tad as she added, "Oh, hello, Amelia."

Amelia gave a meek wave, suddenly feeling awkward. Why was Mrs. Weasley and probably the rest of her brood here? Did Mrs. Weasley hate her now, since she, as George put it, broke Fred's heart? She could understand that, she supposed, seeing that Mrs. Weasley was his mother….but….still….

"Er, yes, I suppose we could use the extra help," Mrs. Weasley then concluded. "This way."

She and Sirius disappeared up a flight of stairs, leaving Amelia alone with her grandmother long enough to ask the question that had obviously been on her mind.

"Gran, what is this place and why are we here? Why are they here?"

"Amelia, these people are here because they - we - are a part of the Order of the Phoenix," Zinnia explained. "A group against You-Know-Who. We got together during the first war, under Dumbledore. And now that You-Know-Who is back….we're back."

Eyes nearly popping from her head, Amelia asked, "And you're a part of it?"

With a wink and twinkle in her eye, Zinnia responded, "Dearie, you've only just met your dear old gran. There's a lot we still need to learn about each other."

Shaking her head, Amelia then asked, "You've been coming here everyday, haven't you? All those times you said you had to meet with the Muggle landlady….you've been here."

"You're a smart girl, darling," Zinnia nodded. "Now, come - we've got doxies to clean."


	34. Starting to Settle In

**As always, thank you guys for all the continued support, it means the world to me! How about we keep those reviews coming, though, hm? They really do keep me going you guys :)**

**Don't be afraid to drop off questions, either!**

**Also, since people have asked, I'll just post a reminder: Amelia is a year older than Harry, Ron &amp; Hermione, but a year younger than Fred, George &amp; Cedric, meaning she was born in 1979. **

**And, I do not have a beta. I do not do much editing, if any at all. I literally write and post as soon as I'm finished with a chapter, so I am completely aware that there are many mistakes. Everything I post is a first draft, just finished. I do plan on going back and fixing said mistakes when I get further along. But, yes, I'm aware they are there. **

**Well, enjoy, and thanks again guys!**

* * *

"Stop it, you're squashing me!"

"Would you rather me squash you, or let all the doxies out before mum gets back?"

"Neither!"

"Would you two just shut up and stop arguing for one minute?!" Ginny pleaded, exasperated. She was already exhausted from hearing Hermione and Ron bicker constantly.

Both Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes, as they, along with Ginny, kept pushing their weight into the desk drawer to keep the doxies at bay. They were putting up a surprisingly good fight, shoving back from their side of the drawer, trying to get out. As they kept shoving the drawer shut, Hermione and Ron continued to bicker. Ginny rolled her eyes now, and looked to Harry, who seemed to be just as annoyed with them as she was.

While the four of them struggled to keep the doxies contained in the drawer, Fred and George sat on a nearby leather sofa, snickering at them.

"You two!" Ginny exploded, glaring at them. "Would it kill you to help?"

With a smirk towards each other, they said, in unison, "Not at all."

They then proceeded to Apparate from the sofa to the desk, but they timed it wrong - their mother was just entering the room.

"FRED! GEORGE! HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU, YOU DON'T NEED TO USE MAGIC FOR EVERYTHING JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN?!" Mrs. Weasley burst, as she, and Sirius entered the room.

"Sorry," the two shrugged. Neither looked that concerned.

Regaining her composure, Mrs. Weasley went back to the task on hand, saying, "Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said. "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."

"All right — _squirt_!"

Harry had been spraying only a few seconds when a fully grown doxy came soaring out of a drawer of the desk, shiny beetle-like wings whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared, its fairylike body covered with thick black hair and its four tiny fists clenched with fury. Harry caught it full in the face with a blast of Doxycide; it froze in midair and fell, with a surprisingly loud thunk, onto the worn carpet below. Harry picked it up and threw it in the bucket.

"Fred, what are you doing?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "Spray that at once and throw it away!"

Harry looked around. Fred was holding a struggling doxy between his forefinger and thumb.

"Right-o," Fred said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted, but the moment Mrs. Weasley's back was turned he pocketed it with a wink.

"We want to experiment with doxy venom for our Skiving Snack boxes," George told Harry under his breath.

Deftly spraying two doxies at once as they soared straight for his nose, Harry moved closer to George and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "What are Skiving Snackboxes?"

"Range of sweets to make you ill," George whispered, keeping a wary eye on Mrs. Weasley's back. "Not seriously ill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. Fred and I have been developing them this summer. They're double-ended, color- coded chews. If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you've been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half —"

" '— which restores you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of your own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom.' That's what we're putting in the adverts, anyway," whispered Fred, who had edged over out of Mrs. Weasley's line of vision and was now sweeping a few stray doxies from the floor and adding them to his pocket. "But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testers are having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end."

"Testers?"

"Us," said Fred. "We take it in turns. George did the Fainting Fancies — we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat —"

"Mum thought we'd been dueling," said George.

"Joke shop still on, then?" Harry muttered, pretending to be adjusting the nozzle on his spray.

"Well, we haven't had a chance to get premises yet," said Fred, dropping his voice even lower as Mrs. Weasley mopped her brow with her scarf before returning to the attack, "So we're running it as a mail order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the Daily Prophet last week."

"All thanks to you, mate," said George. "But don't worry….Mum hasn't got a clue. She won't read the _Daily Prophet_ anymore, 'cause of it telling lies about you and Dumbledore."

"That Skeeter woman's still writing for the _Prophet_?" Zinnia inquired, upon her and Amelia's arrival into the room. "Shame, she's downright nasty."

There was a slight chuckle that reverberated through the room at Zinnia's comment, but everyone shut up and stared when they saw Amelia, who wished she could Apparate out of the room at that moment.

It seemed like forever that nothing was said, until it was George who finally broke the silence and stepped forward to greet Amelia.

"See, I told you it'd be soon," he winked, giving her a one-armed kind of hug. "You should learn not to doubt me."

"Suppose I should," Amelia replied, mustering her best grin.

After George broke the ice, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry got the guts to greet Amelia as well. Fred didn't, understandably, and everyone but Amelia noticed how quickly his mood had changed for the worse upon her arrival.

"Er….need any more help getting rid of the doxies?" Amelia then inquired, unsure of what else there was for her to say.

"No, I think we're all set, thank you," Mrs. Weasley answered, from where she had collapsed on the sofa first occupied by Fred and George. "Ginny, Hermione, why don't you girls show Amelia to her room?"

Hermione and Ginny nodded, escorting Amelia out of the room and up yet another flight of stairs.

"What does she mean, 'my room?'" Amelia asked, increasingly more confused and uncomfortable.

"Well, your grandmother has been in and out of here all summer," Ginny supplied. "She's been planning on moving you two in here - complains about the Muggle that owns your building all the time. She was just waiting until she thought that you were ready."

"But….what about my stuff?" Amelia then inquired.

"It all arrived just before you did," Hermione told her. "Zinnia must've charmed it here just before you two came over."

They came to a stop in front of one of the great, old mahogany doors, which Ginny opened. Inside, were the remnants of what was once an elegant bedroom, with mahogany wood and rich fabrics and deeply colored wallpapers. Amelia saw indeed that her stuff was here - her school trunk at the foot of the bed, her books, her letters and the box of Cedric's things on top of the bed, and Ramses on a bird perch in the corner, fast asleep.

Looking around the room, Amelia was unsure on how she felt about all of this. Her grandmother was on the right side. She got to spend the rest of the summer with a few friends….and Fred.

Once again, a small mewing noise drew Amelia's attention away from her thoughts. She pulled open her large, baggy shoulder bag, to reveal Lucy, mewing as she batted about a few loose Knuts at the bottom of the bag.

"You little scamp," Amelia mumbled, amused, as she pulled the kitten from her bag to cuddle in her arms.

"New cat?" Ginny asked, smiling as she pet Lucy's fuzz. "Awfully sweet little thing….can I hold him or her?"

"Sure, her name's Lucy," Amelia nodded, handing her to Ginny. "Like 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,' by the Beatles?"

Confused, Ginny raised an eyebrow, as Lucy nuzzled her cheek. "Beetles? Like the bugs?"

"No, a band, a Muggle band," Amelia chuckled, gesturing to their picture on her shirt.

"Oh," Ginny replied. Amelia wasn't sure if she understood.

"She's so cute!" Hermione squealed, taking the kitten from Ginny's arms. "This is just great! Crookshanks has been a bit bored, I think - now he can have a little playmate! Look, he's already come to say hello!"

Ginny and Amelia snapped their heads around, to see Crookshanks, a ginger mess of a cat, sitting in the doorway. His head was turned, evidently intrigued, as his tail swished over the floor.

"Here, Lucy, meet Crookshanks," Hermione said, setting the kitten down in front of the significantly larger cat.

Bemused by the smaller, Crookshanks batted at her with his paw gently, but it was enough to cause Lucy to leap, nearly all the way back into Amelia's arms.

"I don't think Crookshanks is looking for a playmate, Hermione," Ginny commented.

"He'll get there," Hermione assured the redhead, as she lifted Crookshanks into her arms. "He just needs to warm up to her a bit."

"If that's what you want to believe, go ahead," Ginny shrugged. "Oh, and Amelia - I'm apologizing in advance for Fred's behaviour. I don't blame you for breaking up with him, but….from what I've seen of your pranking, it would've been fun to have you in the family."

"Oh," Amelia mumbled, her cheeks heating up. Her old nervous habit of stuttering resurfaced, as she said, "It was never….we….w-we were never that s-serious, Ginny. We just….fooled around a bit."

Again, Ginny shrugged, as she replied, "That's not what Fred thinks."

Hermione sensing how awkward Amelia was feeling, said, "Well, er, we'll let you settle in for a moment, alright?"  
"Sure," Amelia nodded.

"Lunch will probably be in about half an hour," Ginny informed her. She stopped, just before she was fully out of the room, and added, "Sorry about my mum, too. She's a bit protective of us, and well….you'll figure it out."

Amelia nodded again as Ginny left the room after Hermione, and sat on her bed, Lucy in her lap. She took the bag off of her shoulder and set it next to her, as she pressed the button that opened her locket. On one side, she saw the family picture that had been in there since she received it. On the other, a newer addition - a picture of her and Cedric, mainly, laughing in the courtyard, though Herb, Leanne and Phoebe were all visible. She smiled, just faintly so, before clasping it shut once again.

As she rose to her feet once again, she heard a loud bang at the window. Immediately, she scurried over, and saw an owl on the ground. She gasped, thinking it was dead, until it flew up once again, to be let inside by Amelia. It seemed a little dizzy, before landing on the perch next to Ramses, who managed to sleep through the whole thing, and offered Amelia the letter in its beak, which she took, and read.

_Amelia F. Honeycutt,_

_I hope that by the time you read this you've arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place, or else I've really spoiled a surprise for you. I also hope that this letter finds you well._

_I was planning on joining you there with the Order, on George's invitation, but I decided not to. Sorry about that. It's just that I know I have to leave for Hogwarts in a little more than a month, so I want to spend as much time with Elliott as possible before we have to leave. I never knew being in love could be so wonderful! I sent you a picture of us, it's in the envelope, if you want to take a look._

_So, I just wanted to apologize for not being able to join you. I'd do my best to save you from Fred if I was there, George says he's been an absolute mess. At least you're not alone with him. But, I understand how he feels now, now that I have Elliott._

_Write me soon!_

_Love,_

_Phoebe E. Hibbert_

_(P.S. - My parents finally let me get my own owl! Her name is Fortuna. Isn't she lovely?)_

Amelia smiled, being able to hear Phoebe's voice in her head as she read the letter. Setting it aside, she took the envelope up once again, taking out a Muggle polaroid picture from it. It was Phoebe, in baggy denim overalls, a tie-dye t-shirt, and shockingly yellow Wellingtons, her hair a mess, as usual. There was a boy next to her, with hair just as long, though much better kept, with a bright smile and twinkle in his eye as he looked at Phoebe, whose eyes were shut due to her laughing. Both of them were wading in a pond, frogs in their hands.

_Of course,_ Amelia thought, shaking her head. _Phoebe would find a frog hunt romantic._

Either way, she set the photo aside with the rest of her mail, happy that Phoebe was happy. She figured she'd write back later, when she had more of a chance. She also wondered how George felt about the whole Phoebe situation. Amelia had an inkling that he fancied Phoebe, even just a tad.

Hermione came upstairs to fetch Amelia for lunch, and guided her down to the now crowded kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley had prepared a plethora of sandwiches for everyone. Amelia took the seat between Ginny and Hermione, and across from her grandmother, who was sitting next to someone who was very familiar to her.

"Professor Lupin?" Amelia inquired, shocked. She never thought she'd see him again, especially after hearing about his….condition.

"Hello, Amelia," Lupin nodded, sipping his drink with a smile. He looked even shabbier than she recalled, but nonetheless, she was very happy to see one of her favorite professors. "You're doing well, from what I hear from your grandmother. I've heard you're doing an internship at St. Mungo's?"

"Yes, I am," Amelia nodded, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. "I go three days a week, and observe Healer Smethwyck. It's nice, but not all that exciting, considering I can't use magic outside of school yet."

As she spoke, she felt Fred's eyes bore into her from down the table.

"Smethwyck says she's brilliant," Zinnia praised, elbowing Lupin with a grin. "Says she could run St. Mungo's on her own right when she gets out of Hogwarts. A natural brain."

"It's because I read, gran," Amelia said humbly, after a bite of her sandwich. "I just read, that's all."

"See, Ronald, I'm not the only one who reads," Hermione shot at Ron.

Amelia looked to Ginny, who was rolling her eyes, and chuckled a bit under her breath.

"Amelia, have you read _Hogwarts, a History_?" Ron inquired sharply, trying to defend his end of the case.

"Yeah, I have," she nodded, knowing it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Hermione smirked, and the now-defeated Ron sunk into his seat, scowling. Between seeing that, and the continuing feeling of Fred's eyes on her, Amelia had a feeling it was going to be a long rest of the summer.


	35. Compass and Mirror

**Chapter thirty five, and Amelia's 16th! (Her birthday is August 3rd, since I don't mention it explicitly here.)**

**Thanks again for all the support guys, it does mean the world to me! Please, please, PLEASE do not be afraid to leave a review, I love hearing from you guys and they truly do brighten my day! I also take questions, for me, the author, or any of the characters!**

**Thanks again lovelies!**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

Amelia overslept the following morning, only to be awoken by a swift pillow to the face. Grumbling, she attempted to swat the pillow away, to no avail. Popping her eyes open, she sat up, cussing and swatting.

"Merlin, you're not a morning person, are you?" chuckled the culprit, George, who stood over her with his weapon of choice - the pillow.

"Not at all," she replied, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Is there a reason you've woken me up at this god-awful time?"

"It's almost 9 o'clock," George informed her.

"Yeah?" she shot. "What's so important?"

"Mum's nearly done with breakfast, that's all," he said. "Ginny and Hermione tried waking you up, but they couldn't. I was just about to dump cold water on you."

"I'm glad you didn't," she said, shoving her blankets out of the way so she could get up. "Well, I'm gonna get dressed now, so unless you wanna watch, get out."

"Well, I wouldn't mind….," George drawled playfully.

"Get out, Weasley!" Amelia laughed, launching a pillow at his face, until he finally stumbled out of the room laughing and shut the door behind him.

Just to be safe, she locked the door behind her, before proceeding to get dressed in her usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble. Today's t-shirt: The Weird Sisters. She figured she'd at least try to relate.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, attempting to fix her hair. She'd started regretting that she cut it, considering it was even more unruly this way, even if it was so much easier to comb and maintain.

A loud hoot woke her from her mirror daze, and upon turning around, she saw Ramses pecking a pile of new letters frantically, clearly wanting her to read them.

"Settle down, I'll read them," she said, attempting to calm the bird as she picked up the mail.

Upon opening and reading them, she realized they were a bunch of birthday cards. Phoebe, Herb, Leanne, Heidi, and Mr. and Mrs. Diggory had all been kind enough to send her cards and well wishes. She paused, staring at them. She realized she'd forgotten her own birthday. She was 16 - just a year away from being legal in the wizarding world.

She set the letters back on her bed, making a mental note to reply with thank yous as soon as possible. With that, she made her way out of her makeshift bedroom, and down the stairs, past all the house elf heads that hung eerily on the wall. They really did creep her out.

Amelia was so busy staring at the disturbing collection of heads on the wall, she nearly walked into whoever was close enough to the stairs.

"Er, sorry," she mumbled.

Of course. Just her luck. It was Fred. George was by his side, and judging by the look on his face, he knew whatever was coming wasn't exactly going to be pretty.

"No,_ I_ should've paid more attention," he responded with an edge. She couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

Taking a breath, she decided she'd just have to do it again - say what was on her mind, which she was becoming more and more accustomed to doing.

"Look, Fred, I'm sorry you're upset with me," she said. She somehow mustered the guts to look at him when she spoke. "I'm sorry. I am. But you shouldn't be, because it wasn't like we were…._serious_, or anything. We had a couple months of fun. Leave it at that. There are plenty of other girls out there, right? You can do better than me."

He only stared at her, shaking his head. Unsure of what to say, Amelia decided to leave it at that, as awkward as it may be.

Just as she turned, Fred told her, "Happy birthday."

She halted, but without facing him, replied, "Thank you."

There was a _pop!_ kind of noise, and Amelia correctly assumed he'd Apparated out. Another _pop!_ and George was right in front of her, nearly causing her to pee her pants.

"Don't make that a habit," she muttered, clutching her chest.

George, however, didn't seem phased by her request, he only asked, "It's your birthday?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a shrug.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he inquired.

Again, she shrugged. "Not a big deal. Don't do anything, please - remember all the stuff I've done to the Slytherins."

"You're such a party pooper," George whined, holding the door to one of the sitting rooms open for her.

As soon as he'd done so, Amelia was nearly knocked over by someone attacking her with a hug. It was someone short, with a wild head of hair, who smelled like the forest and rain….Phoebe?!

"Happy birthday, 'Melia!" Phoebe exploded, upon releasing her friend.

"Phoebe!" Amelia exclaimed. "I thought you weren't coming?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she then shrugged, losing the excitement as she faded back to normal, airy-fairy Phoebe.

She then pulled a small box from behind her back, that was wrapped in four leaf clover print paper, and thrust it towards Amelia.

"Phoebe, you really didn't have to….," Amelia told her friend.

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," Phoebe smiled in return. "Open it."

Meekly, Amelia unwrapped the paper, to reveal a small, black, cardboard jewelry box. She peeked up at Phoebe for some sort of hint of what was inside of the box, but Phoebe didn't give anything away. She simply watched, waiting for a reaction.

Opening the box revealed what appeared to be an old pocket watch, gold, slightly tarnished, but elaborately engraved with a floral pattern. Amelia took it out, carefully slow, and pressed the button to release the clasp. Instead of seeing the regular face of a watch as she expected, she saw what looked more like a compass than it did a watch. There was one, large, gleaming golden hand in the center, and the background color was a soft turquoise color. As soon as Amelia opened it, the hand retracted into itself, leaving a golden moon in the center of the watch, amongst the turqouise.

Seeing that Amelia looked a bit confused, Phoebe explained, "It's a compass. A Heart Compass. The arrow comes out when you need it, and it points you where you need to go. The background color reflects your mood. Turquoise, that's just average, y'know, like a baseline. The arrow isn't out because there isn't anywhere else you really need to be right now. Here."

Phoebe then took the liberty of clipping the device to the same chain Amelia wore her locket on, and Amelia could've teared up. Now that she knew what it was, she thought it was just brilliant, and completely sweet of Phoebe to get her such a present.

"Thanks, Pheebs," Amelia said. "Really, thank you."

"My pleasure," Phoebe winked. Tugging a chord on her neck, she revealed one nearly identical to Amelia's, except hers was silver. "We can be twins now."

"Except that you two look nothing alike," George said, re-entering the conversation. "Amelia's all lanky and blonde, and you're….you."

Phoebe, of course, didn't look phased, but Amelia did. In defense of her friend, she asked, "Are you calling her fat or something, George?"

"Not at all," George replied with a wink, as Phoebe's attention was diverted, as she bent to see Crookshanks. Seeing she was out of earshot, George leaned in, telling Amelia, "I was going to say _curvy_, but I restrained myself."

"Is that hard for you?" Amelia chuckled.

Phoebe was in her own world now, cuddling and coddling Crookshanks, who didn't look so amused, but tolerated it.

"Extremely," George nodded, glancing down at the wild-haired Irish girl. Within the blink of an eye, he Apparated away, and then back, with a drink in his hand which he sipped, as he told her, "You were hard on Fred earlier. I didn't know you had that much 'umph in you, being a Hufflepuff and all."

"I only told him the truth, George," Amelia defended, leaning against the wall. She felt her cheeks get hot again. "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to him if I didn't. There's too much going on with me right now for me to have the time to be a good….y'know."

"Girlfriend?" George supplied. She nodded vaguely, not exactly liking the word. Shrugging, he added, "I guess I understand. I just hope he'll get over it….can I ask, though, is it mainly because of Cedric?"

Amelia felt a knot in her throat and her chest tighten around her heart. She didn't reply, not at first anyway.

"Well, kind of," she admitted finally. "It's long and complicated."

"And I've got a brain and time," he replied with a smirk.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed," came Ginny's voice, as she poked her head through the door with a smile. "Anyway, breakfast is ready. Oh, and hello, Phoebe."

"Hi," Phoebe replied airily, as she rose to her feet, Crookshanks in her arms.

The three left the little sitting room and headed for the kitchen, where Fred, Lupin, Sirius, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were all assembled, beginning to eat, as Mrs. Weasley continued to bumble around the kitchen. A round of happy birthdays were said to Amelia, which she thanked everyone for, and quietly took her seat between George and Phoebe and across from Hermione.

"Is this Amelia?" came a new, jovial female voice. "Finally, a fellow Hufflepuff!"

Amelia's head turned, to see that a young woman with a bright face and even brighter pink hair was the one speaking, as she carried a plate of toast to the table. Clumsily, she tripped, nearly dropping all the toast, though Lupin went to her aid, and after thanking him, she successfully delivered the toast to the table.

"Amelia, this is Tonks," Lupin introduced. "Nymphadora Tonks, but remember never to use her first name - you might not live to tell the tale."

"Nice to meet you," Amelia said, as she shook hands with Tonks.

"Pleasure, and happy birthday," Tonks replied with a warm, spunky kind of grin.

"Oh, Tonks, this is Phoebe," George then introduced. "Hufflepuff as well."

"I love your hair," Phoebe said, as she and Tonks shook hands. "I wish my parents would let me get away with something like that, it's quite the look. They don't even like my hair now. Been begging me to cut it for months. Well….first they want me to get the twigs and such out, but I quite like them in my hair."

Tonks chuckled, amused, as most people were while interacting with Phoebe, before everyone settled down and had breakfast.

"Where's Harry?" Phoebe inquired after a pause in the conversation.

Amelia hadn't even noticed he was gone.

"He's at the Ministry, at his hearing," Hermione answered, looking a bit worried. "They're debating whether or not to expel him and snap his wand."

"No!" Amelia exclaimed, in shock. "What happened? What'd he do?"

"Cast a Patronus Charm out of school," Ron said, mouth full of oatmeal. "Dementors were chasing him, and nearly sucked his Muggle cousin's soul out right in front of him."

"Dementors?" Amelia repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't he live with Muggles? In a Muggle area?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "That's what makes it so strange - but, with Harry, not unbelievable."

"Stranger things have happened," Phoebe stated, adding sugar to her tea.

"Morning, all," greeted Zinnia, as she entered the kitchen. Pressing a kiss to the top of Amelia's head, she said, "And a very happy birthday to you, darling."

"Thanks, gran," Amelia replied.

Like Phoebe had, Zinnia slipped her a small gift box.

"Gran," Amelia said. "I didn't want anything….I appreciate it, but you didn't…."

"I wanted to," Zinnia said, just as Phoebe had.

Finally accepting the gift, Amelia opened it, revealing a compact mirror.

"It's a two-way mirror," Zinnia informed her granddaughter. "So whenever you need me, you can get to me."

"Thanks, gran," Amelia said, hugging her grandmother. "It's brilliant."

Amelia's sixteenth birthday ended up being one of the most proper ones she'd had thus far, but her heart still felt heavy, knowing there was one person who wasn't there with her.


	36. Interpretation on the Express

**Chapter thirty six! As always, I cannot thank you guys enough for your continued support, it honestly means more than you could imagine to me. I especially love hearing from you guys, so PLEASE don't be afraid to leave a review! Please leave me some reviews, guys!**

**Also, a question: I know I've recently posted some other HP fics on here that haven't gone anywhere, but I'd like to post another HP fic. It's one I actually started way back when in junior high, but I like the premise - it'd be the story of Cedric's little sister. I'd love to post it, of course, but would you guys read? I like Cedric, so I tend to write a lot about his friends and whatnot...would it be to repetitive for you guys considering this fic? Also, if I did post, what ship would you like? In the original, I shipped her with Malfoy, who I don't exactly like anymore. So, options would be Fred/OC, George/OC (which again...to repetitive?), Neville/OC, Malfoy/OC (if y'all wanted...) or whatever other suggestions. **

**^ Leave me some feedback or send me a message about this, please :)**

**I'll shut up and let you enjoy now.**

* * *

The rest of summer came and went, with a few significant events. Hermione and Ron were made Gryffindor Prefects and Amelia learned that the Alastor Moody she had as a professor the previous year was not Alastor Moody at all, but instead Barty Crouch Jr., a Death Eater taking Polyjuice. The real Mad-Eye, who she got to meet, she liked much better than the fake one. She also learned that Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, something that proved to be awfully entertaining during dull moments, especially at the dinner table. At least it was a distraction from the awkwardness of having to sit at meals with Fred, who ignored her the rest of the time, with the occasional rude comment or glance when they passed each other in the halls.

The morning of September the first came, and Amelia found herself stuffing the rest of her possessions - along with Cedric's - back into her trunk. Lucy batted at her shoelaces, making the task much harder than it really needed to be. Lucy had grow as well, but not much. Zinnia told Amelia that Lucy would just be a small cat, and Amelia was fine with having a pocket-sized cat. It was kind of cute, to be honest. She dressed at lightning speed, into jeans, her Chucks and Cedric's old jersey, just because it was at the top of her clothing pile and did her best to pull her short hair into a ponytail at the back of her head.

Ready as she was going to be, she dragged her trunk out of her room to find that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall. Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

"— COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —"

"— FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS —"

Amelia only shook her head, and dragged her trunk downstairs, Lucy in her shoulder bag, to find Harry struggling to get ready in time. He was stuffing his feet into his trainers hurriedly, but so hurriedly that he couldn't quite get the hang of getting them on the right way.

"Morning, Harry," Amelia greeted.

"Morning," Harry replied, grumbling at his shoes.

"Anxious to get back into the swing of things?" Amelia inquired kindly, making conversation.

Harry shrugged a bit, before responding, "I guess. I'm just glad they didn't expel me."

Hermione came hurrying into the room looking flustered just as Harry; Hedwig was swaying on her shoulder, and she was carrying a squirming Crookshanks in her arms.

"Mum and Dad just sent Hedwig back" — the owl fluttered obligingly over and perched on top of her cage — "are you ready yet?"

"Nearly — Ginny all right?" Harry asked.

"Mrs. Weasley's patched her up," said Hermione. "But now Mad-Eye's complaining that we can't leave unless Sturgis Podmore's here, otherwise the guard will be one short."

"Guard?" said Harry. "We have to go to King's Cross with a guard?"

"You have to go to King's Cross with a guard," Hermione corrected him.

"Why?" said Harry irritably. "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in?"

"I don't know, it's just what Mad-Eye says," said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch. "But if we don't leave soon we're definitely going to miss the train. . . ."

"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed and Hermione jumped as though scalded and hurried out of the room. Harry seized Hedwig, stuffed her unceremoniously into her cage, and set off downstairs after Hermione, dragging his trunk like Amelia.

Mrs. Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again anyway.

"Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks," shouted Mrs. Weasley over the repeated screeches of "_MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT !_" "Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage. . . . Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry's side as Harry clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh honestly . . ." said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, "well, on your own head be it!"

"Why the….?" Amelia mumbled to Hermione, gesturing to the dog.

Slightly under her breath, Hermione said, "It's Sirius. He's an Animagus."

"Oh," Amelia nodded. Like her grandmother.

"Alright, Ron, Hermione, Phoebe, you'll be coming with me," Mr. Weasley instructed, adjusting his cap. "Fred, George, Ginny and Amelia, you'll be going with Remus. All of you lot, leave your luggage where it is."

"Here," Lupin said, bringing the twins, Ginny and Amelia together to prepare them. "We're going to use Side-Along Apparition to Apparate across town, and walk from there."

"Why can't we just Apparate ourselves?" Fred asked, almost protesting.

"Well, do you know where we're going to Apparate exactly?" Lupin countered.

"No," Fred said.

"That's why," Lupin finished. Extending his arms, he cleared his throat, and said, "Grab on, everyone. Amelia and Ginny, prepare yourselves, some people don't react well to their first time Apparating, especially with Side-Along."

Fred and George grabbed one arm of his ratty, patched jacket, and Ginny and Amelia the other. Lupin gave them a countdown, and just as Amelia began to feel the absolutely bizarre sensation of Apparating, she realized she'd been in such a rush that she hadn't even said goodbye to her grandmother.

They landed in the shadows of an alleyway between two Muggle buildings, where they dusted themselves off.

"Professor," Amelia panted, trying not to vomit. "I didn't say goodbye to my gran."

"You haven't left yet, dear," came Zinnia's voice. Turning over her shoulder, Amelia saw her. "I'm going to the station with you. I'll have to go disguised as Maggie Mae, though - I'm still a wanted woman, after all."

Amelia smiled just a tad. Zinnia had explained it to her before - she'd joined the Order back in the early days, in secret, so that her husband wouldn't find out, and so that she could pass on whatever information she could get from the Death Eaters to the Order. Though, because she did so in secret, she went to her supposed grave as a Death Eater in the public eye. If she appeared alive and well, it surely wasn't going to go over well. The press would be all over it, and even with Dumbledore's support, she'd most likely end up in Azkaban, especially since people's trust in Dumbledore was quickly waning.

"Zinnia, you'd better disguise yourself," Lupin advised. "We've got to get going."

"Oh, right, thank you, Remus," she replied absentmindedly, morphing into a fluffy black and white cat before her eyes.

"Here, gran," Amelia chuckled, picking her up and placing her in the satchel with Lucy. "There."

The five of them, along with Zinnia and Amelia's bag, then made their way through the Muggle neighborhoods on foot. Ginny, George and Lupin talked to Amelia, but of course Fred didn't. Fred had things to say, sure, but not to Amelia.

It seemed like an eternity before they arrived at King's Cross, where they met up with Harry, Mrs. Weasley, Sirius as the dog, and Tonks disguised as an old woman, along with Mad-Eye and the luggage. Mr. Weasley arrived with the rest not too long after that. Hermione and Ron appeared to be getting along for once, but Amelia assumed it was because of Phoebe. She had a way of defusing tension with her kind of strange comedy, even if she didn't intend to be funny.

"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You too, Harry. Be careful."

"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," said Moody, shaking Harry's hand too. "And don't forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."

"It's been great meeting all of you," said Tonks, hugging Hermione, Ginny, Phoebe and Amelia. "We'll see you soon, I expect."

A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train.

"Bye gran, love you," Amelia mumbled, feeling rather silly as she kissed her grandmother, who was currently a cat.

Zinnia meowed and licked Amelia's cheek, as she was whisked away by Tonks, who apologized with a goofy sort of grin and nearly tripped over herself.

"Quick, quick," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random - except Amelia -and catching Harry twice. "Write. . . . Be good. . . . If you've forgotten anything we'll send it on. . . . Onto the train, now, hurry. . . ."

For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry's shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away toward the train door hissing, "For heaven's sake act more like a dog, Sirius!"

"See you!" Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside him. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone.

"He shouldn't have come with us," said Hermione in a worried voice.

"Oh lighten up," said Ron, "he hasn't seen daylight for months, poor bloke."

"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands together, "can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later," and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right.

The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past and they swayed where they stood.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "Er," said Ron.

"We're — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the Prefect carriage," Hermione said awkwardly.

Ron wasn't looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.

"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Fine," said Harry again. "Well, I-I might see you later, then."

"Yeah, definitely," said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. "It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather — but we have to — I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy," he finished defiantly.

"I know you're not," said Harry and he grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks, and a caged Pigwidgeon off toward the engine end of the train.

"Come on," Ginny told him, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

Harry agreed, and he and Ginny disappeared, as did Phoebe, after promising to save a seat for Amelia, who also had to attend the Prefect meeting.

As it was the year before, the Prefect meeting was pretty boring. Hermione seemed exceedingly interested, as she would. Amelia also found Herb in there, who had been given Cedric's position as Hufflepuff Prefect for their year.

"So," Herb drawled, as they left the compartment together. "You're….still wearing his shirt, huh?"

"Yeah," Amelia nodded, tucking some loose wisps of hair behind her ears. "Phoebe told me it's not healthy."

"For once, I think I agree with her," Herbert replied. "I get it, we all miss him, 'Melia, but wearing his clothes? I don't know."

"'Melia? Is that you?" came Leanne's voice, as she stuck her head out of one of the compartments.

Before Amelia could reply, Leanne burst out, nearly crushing her with a hug.

"Thank god you two are here," Leanne commented, letting them inside the compartment. Under her breath, she added, "Phoebe's already driving me a bit mad."

"Everything drives you mad," Herb replied with a wink. "Except me."

She rolled her eyes, and to apologize, he kissed her forehead, before they settled together on one side, holding hands. Amelia averted her eyes, feeling that it was a bit awkward to watch as they got to doing all the touchy-feely stuff teens in love did. She took the seat next to Phoebe.

Today, Phoebe was in full Phoebe Hibbert form, something Amelia failed to see earlier. She wore a long, flowing indigo and violet skirt that was made out of fabric almost as airy as she was and a floral print blouse that completely clashed with the skirt, but somehow, worked on Phoebe. Her feet were bare, as they almost always were, and her toenails were painted black and yellow, alternating. She'd tied hippogriff feathers in her hair, along with what Amelia believed were a few fragments of dragon scales, and four leaf clovers. Around her neck was the chord, which her heart compass dangled off of, along with soda tabs, what looked like two wedding rings, an actual bronze pocket watch, another dragon scale and a piece of rolled parchment in a tiny glass and cork bottle. Fortuna the owl was on her shoulder, fast asleep, rats in her lap, Chocolate Frog dangling from her mouth, and magazine in hand, which she read.

Next to Phoebe, Amelia felt exceedingly plain. Sure, Phoebe was an oddball, but you could never forget her. Amelia, in her jeans, Cedric's Quidditch jersey and Chuck Taylors, with her boring blonde hair, however, felt like she was very forgettable.

"Er, I think I've got to go to the loo," Leanne announced, playfully pushing Herb off of her while he relentlessly tried to snog her.

"Me too," Herb breathed, jumping to his feet after her and out of the compartment.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that neither of them actually had to use the loo.

Sighing, Amelia looked to her eccentric friend, and asked, "What're you reading?"

Instead of answering, Phoebe continued reading, holding up the cover for Amelia to see.

"The _Quibbler_?" Amelia read. "Never heard of it."

"It's brilliant," Phoebe stated through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog. It was a wonder she didn't weigh a thousand pounds, with all the chocolate she ate. "Take a look."

After Phoebe shoved the magazine into her hands, Amelia did just that. She took a look.

**_SIRIUS - Black As He's Painted?_**

**_Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?_**

_For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black's audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the dementors._

_BUT DOES HE?_

_Startling new evidence has recently come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes for which he was sent to Azkaban. In fact, says Doris Purkiss, of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, Black may not even have been present at the killings._

_"What people don't realize is that Sirius Black is a false name," says Mrs. Purkiss. "The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of the popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired from public life after being struck in the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the paper. Now, Stubby couldn't possibly have committed those crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have written to the Minister of Magic and am expecting him to give Stubby, alias Sirius, a full pardon any day now." _

Amelia only shook her head, and flipped to the next page.

_Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister of Magic five years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to "cooperate peacefully" with the guardians of our gold._

_BUT DOES HE?_

_Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be._

_"It wouldn't be the first time, either," said a Ministry insider. "Cornelius 'Goblin-Crusher' Fudge, that's what his friends call him, if you could hear him when he thinks no one's listening, oh, he's always talking about the goblins he's had done in; he's had them drowned, he's had them dropped off buildings, he's had them poisoned, he's had them cooked in pies. . . ."_

"I can picture it," Phoebe commented, looking at a Babayaga Chocolate Frog card before giving it to her rats to gnaw on.

"What, Fudge eating goblins for dinner?" Amelia chuckled.

"Well, yes," Phoebe nodded, quite seriously. "But I meant I could picture Sirius being a rock star and all. He has the looks for it, and all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Amelia inquired, amused.

"I don't know," Phoebe shrugged. "I just say things. You're supposed to interpret them, I can't do that for you."


	37. Sorting and Judging

**So...erm...if you would could you give me feedback on the fanfic idea I posted in the last chapter so I know whether or not you guys would like to read it? I'm kind of in the dark with the lack of reviews lately -_-**

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**Can I be a little annoying though and request we get to 70 reviews by the end of the week? It would be pretty freakin' awesome. :-)**

**Thanks guys, and here's the next chapter.**

* * *

Once in the Great Hall that evening, there were two things that struck Amelia. One, Hagrid was missing, which seemed to greatly bother Phoebe, who had proclaimed him as "brilliant," after breeding those bloody Blast Ended Skrewts. Second, was the Sorting Hat's new song.

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school And pass along their learning. "Together we will build and teach!" The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere As Slytherin and Gryffndor? Unless it was the second pair Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong? How could such friendships fail? Why, I was there and so can tell The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those With brave deeds to their name,"_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot, And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had A House in which they might Take only those they wanted, so, for instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him, And only those of sharpest mind Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff she took the rest, And taught them all she knew, Thus the Houses and their founders Retained friendships firm and true. So Hogwarts worked in harmony For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four, Had once held up our school, Now turned upon each other and, Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting And the clash of friend on friend And at last there came a morning when old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs, The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within._

_I have told you, I have warned you. . . . Let the Sorting now begin._

"Well," Herb mumbled, clearing his throat as he shifted a bit in his seat. "That was….different…."

"Ominous," Phoebe declared. However horrible the word sounded, her tone and expression were nothing less than content, as she filled her cheeks with a Chocolate Frog.

Amelia swallowed hard, recalling something she'd read in one of the books about Hogwarts, as she informed them, "I can't remember which book….but I remember reading in one that the Hat'll give warnings like that when it senses the school's in danger."

"Danger?" Leanne repeated, her face paling. "What kind of danger?"

"I don't know, there's a lot of - …." Amelia began, only to be cut off as McGonagall announced the first name - Abercrombie, Euan - to begin the Sorting.

In almost complete silence, the four of them watched the Sorting, clapping for each new first year that rose from the stool as the hat was pulled from their head. Of course, they put extra effort into clapping for and welcoming the new Hufflepuffs to the table, even if Herb, Amelia, and Leanne weren't particularly feeling as festive as they usually did at such a time.

"Oh, there goes my little cousin," Phoebe cooed as a boy named Daniel Callaghan took the stool.

"I didn't know you had a little cousin coming here," Herb remarked.

"Now you do," she replied simply, with a shrug of the shoulders.

After a moment of deliberation, the hat announced, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Phoebe clapped, and with a maternal kind of smile, said, "I knew it. He's Gryffindor through and through."

"What do you mean?" inquired Leanne.

"Headstrong and stubborn," Phoebe replied. "Like the whole lot of them."

The rest of the Sorting came and went, with the last first year, Rose Zeller, ending up in Hufflepuff.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "Welcome! To our old hands — welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate — for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under pies and dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"Yum," Phoebe said. She immediately started helping herself - she wasn't the kind of girl that was embarrassed to stuff her face in front of people. "I've been waiting months for this meal."

"I'm sure you have," Leanne mumbled, watching wide-eyed as Phoebe ate, like she was some kind of foreign creature or alien.

"Meals like this make me wish that I could still eat," remarked the Fat Friar, as he glided over behind Phoebe. "Eat enough for the both of us, won't you, Phoebe?"

"Mhm," Phoebe replied with a grin and a mouthful of food. "Sure thing." When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now too."

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Phoebe, however, looked like she was in a panic - Dumbledore had not mentioned Hagrid, her favorite. A few other people seemed relieved that the Blast Ended Skrewt Master had not shown his face.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "Hem, hem," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was thin.

No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish and again. She gave another little throat- clearing cough ("Hem, hem") and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!" Amelia glanced around. None of the faces she could see looked happy; on the contrary, they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins. Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("Hem, hem"), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawk-like, and her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little "Hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . ."

". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Amelia noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now — as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."

"I don't like her," Phoebe said strongly. Her nostrils flared as if she'd smelled something putrid, before she adjusted one of the rats on her shoulder. "I don't like her at all."

Amelia, Leanne and Herb exchanged looks. They all knew Phoebe was one of the best judges of characters, and hearing her say that didn't make any of them like this Umbridge woman, especially since none of them liked her in the first place. Besides, Amelia got the message - this Umbridge thought she could come in and change Hogwarts under the guise of doing it for the Ministry. In Amelia's opinion, Hogwarts didn't need any changing.

The festivities, if you could call them that, came to an end, and Amelia and the rest of the Hufflepuff Prefects helped show the first years to the common room, and eventually to their dorms. However, Amelia came to a halt right outside the barrels. She didn't know if she could go in there, without Cedric….it wouldn't be the same….

"You've got to go in, y'know," Phoebe said, laying a hand on her shoulder. It probably would've been more comforting if there wasn't a chocolate frog stuffed into her mouth at the moment.

"You're right," Amelia admitted.

Gathering the guts, Amelia tapped the barrels, admitting herself and Phoebe inside. And she'd been right - it wasn't the same, not at all, but it had to be done.

The year would sure be different without Cedric.


	38. Bad Energy

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! **

**It's literally my favorite holiday, and I'm wishing all of you who participate in the wonderful festivities to have a fabulous time. I am also thanking all of you for the support, which means the world to me. **

**Can I still beg for some more reviews before the end of the week? Maybe in the 70-75 range? Because I love hearing from you guys, really...seeing a new review makes my face light up. **

**Anyway, I hope this chapter brings out a bit of a different side of Phoebe. (She pulls a little Harry here). I also hope it makes you realize how much I despise Umbridge. She's worse than Voldemort. Honestly. **

**Well, thanks again, enjoy! And happy Halloween! :D**

* * *

"You're going to try out for Quidditch this year, aren't you, 'Melia?" Herb inquired.

It was the next morning, and Amelia had gotten up surprisingly early, to go to the common room and make herself a cup of tea from the kettle over the fire. She sat, Indian-style, on the sofa she used to share with Ced, absentmindedly staring into the flames. Now, only a few minutes later, Herb had come down, the only other person in the room.

"You know I don't understand the game, Herb," she replied dryly, fiddling with the string of her tea bag. "And I'm scared of heights. I wouldn't make it playing Quidditch."

"Yeah, but you're smart," he said, plopping down beside her. "You could learn. Just tell me you'll think about it, huh? I want people I can deal with on the team this year, since I'm captain."

"Sure," Amelia responded, mustering the best smile she could. "I'll think about it."

"Great," Herb grinned, rising to his feet once again. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast, then. I've got morning patrol duty."

"See you," she bid, watching him leave.

As he left, the Fat Friar glided in through the wall, humming softly to himself. Amelia swallowed hard, knowing that she needed to ask him something - and now was the perfect time.

"Excuse me, Friar?" she said sweetly, though on the inside, she was shaking with nerves.

"Good morning, Miss Honeycutt," the Friar greeted kindly. "You're up awfully early on this fine September morning. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Er, yes, " she replied with a slight nod. "I wanted to know….when you die...when we all die….does everyone….become…..?"

She didn't have to say anything else, the Fat Friar got her point. He looked down at her with a sympathetic, bittersweet, but understanding kind of half-smile, before "sitting" next to her on the couch.

"Not everyone does. Some choose to stay on this side," the Friar explained. He paused, and then said, "He didn't choose to do so, Amelia. I'm very sorry."

Without another word, he floated and faded away once again, leaving her by herself in the common room.

After a breakfast that Amelia barely tasted, she, Phoebe, Leanne and Malcolm Preece, one of the Chasers in their year, went off to History of Magic. Having not had slept well the night before, Amelia managed to doze off in the first five minutes of Professor Binns' beginning lecture on the giant wars, just where they had ended the previous year.

Leanne kept nudging her awake every few minutes, but Amelia just couldn't manage to keep her eyes open. History of Magic usually had Amelia wanting to nod off, though she usually couldn't manage to. She was rather grateful for Phoebe during that class, since it was Phoebe who told Leanne just to let Amelia sleep, and that she'd give her the notes later.

Amelia knew there was a reason why she was such good friends with Phoebe. Well, there were a lot of reasons, actually, but this was a good example one of them.

History of Magic came and went, thank Merlin that it went, and they were off to Defense Against the Dark Arts. As was typical on the first day of classes, all the students were a little anxious to find out exactly what kind of professor they'd be getting. However, the nerves were a bit worse this year, seeing as none of them really liked the taste of Dolores Umbridge that they'd had at the year's opening feast.

Just as they came upon the door to the classroom, and were on the cusp of entering it, Phoebe stopped dead in her tracks. She was frozen, with a look of distaste that Amelia had never seen on her usually even-tempered friend. She was so frozen and focused on whatever was bothering her that she didn't even react as one of her rats nibbled on her earrings, which were just Bertie Botts' Beans hooked to silver studs.

"Is something wrong, Pheebs?" Amelia inquired, gently moving her aside so other students could enter the room.

They were all looking at her like she had a thousand heads, just like Leanne was. Leanne didn't handle Phoebe's oddities too well, seeing as she proceeded to enter class alongside Katie Bell.

"I just don't like this Umbridge woman," Phoebe stated, finally blinking her enormous eyes. "Her energy is putrid."

"Her energy?" Amelia repeated, chuckling a bit. "You should like Trelawney."

Now, looking offended, Phoebe's face snapped towards Amelia, as she said, "Trelawney is a fraud. I know what I'm talking about. Umbridge is foul."

"Well, alright," Amelia mumbled, unsure of what she was really supposed to say. "Even if she is foul, we've got to go to her class."

Amelia had to practically drag Phoebe into the classroom, where they sat together behind Leanne and Katie. The class was filled with chatter, as students continued to filter in, greet one another, and prepare the materials necessary for class. Phoebe was still, staring blankly into what seemed like nothing, as the rat finished off her earring and as one of her hands absentmindedly fiddled with one of the hippogriff feather and dragon scale charms in her hair.

A couple of moments later, Umbridge, outfitted in her fluffiest, pinkest and most ridiculous looking outfit, emerged from the office at the back of the room. She wore a smile, though Amelia couldn't decipher the genuineness of it, and didn't know how she felt about not being able to read it.

"Well, good morning!" Umbridge said.

Her voice was so high and little-girlish, Amelia began to feel uncomfortable. Phoebe, on the other hand, looked more than uncomfortable.

A few kids mumbled a response, but judging by the look on Umbridge's face, she obviously wasn't satisfied by the response.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge cleared her throat. "I don't believe that was the proper response! Now, from this point on, I expect a proper, 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge!' when I say good morning to you. Try again, shall we? Good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," they repeated, like robots.

All of them repeated, except Phoebe. And, Umbridge took notice of this.

"Excuse me, what's your name, young lady?" Umbridge asked, the same false smile plastered across her face as she approached Phoebe.

"Phoebe Hibbert," Phoebe replied cooly. She didn't even put the effort in to make eye contact with the new professor.

"Well, Miss Hibbert, would you care to explain why you did not say good morning to me when I so kindly asked you to?" inquired Umbridge.

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge," Phoebe said. But, it was too little, too late.

"That will not do, Miss Hibbert," Umbridge said, shaking her head. "I do not appreciate the attitude you're giving me. I think that you need to learn how to respect your professors. You will be joining me tonight for detention to learn that lesson."

Phoebe didn't react, but Amelia did. She glared up at Umbridge, unable to believe what this woman was doing.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," Phoebe replied, in a way that was almost too sarcastic to be Phoebe.

"And you will take those ridiculous rings out of your nose," Umbridge added, holding out her palm as she nodded towards the silver rings that adorned each of Phoebe's nostrils. "Immediately."

With a slight groan, Phoebe took them out. A couple of kids onlooking winced, but continued to watch as Phoebe dropped them in Umbridge's palm. The frog-faced woman looked down at the jewelry with quite obvious disgust, before pointing her wand at them and causing them to vanish into thin air.

"Now that we're all sorted out, we're going to begin class," Umbridge said, regaining her composure. She paced up towards the front of the class, back to the students, as she continued, "Wands away, please. You will not be needing them in this class. However, you will be needing your books, so please take them out."

A hand shot up in front of Phoebe and Amelia - Katie Bell's.

"Yes, Miss….?"

"Bell, Katie Bell," Katie introduced. Then, she asked, "Why won't we need our wands?"

Tilting her head, Umbridge countered, "Why would you need your wands?"

"To practice spells!" Andrew Kirke, a Gryffindor, yelped.

"Hand up before you speak!" Umbridge chirped, annoyed.

Annoyed himself, Andrew rolled his eyes slightly, and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr….?"

"Andrew Kirke," he supplied haughtily. "As I was saying, we're going to need are wands if we're going to cast spells."

"Why _would_ we be casting spells in my class, Mr. Kirke?" Umbridge said, her voice, yet again, going up an octave. "Why would there be a reason, or a _need_ to do so inside of a classroom?"

"It's Defense Against the Dark Arts," Amelia piped up, finally gaining the nerves. "How're we supposed to defend ourselves if we don't practice, hands-on, with wands?"

Her response caused a chorus of agreement to uprise throughout the room, and the corner of Umbridge's unsettling smile twitched with nerves.

"I thought I made it clear that we raise our hands before speaking in my classroom," she nearly spat. "Your name?"

"Amelia Honeycutt," Amelia said.

"Yes, Miss Honeycutt, I did believe I made that clear," Umbridge continued. "Either way, we are putting this conversation to rest - there will be absolutely no need to use your wands in this class, because there are no threats to you that would warrant the use of your wands in your future here within the confines of Hogwarts Castle. Instead, we will be learning straight out of our books, as the Ministry directs. We will only be following the Ministry dictated curriculum, despite your rather shady history of education in this course. Now, if everyone would look to the blackboard…."

With a flick of the wrist, Umbridge made her wand control the chalk on the blackboard which wrote:

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_A Return to Basic Principles_

_Course Aims:_

_1: Understanding the underlying principles of defensive magic._

_2: Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used._

_3: Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use._

"Those are the course goals, as described by the Ministry," drawled Umbridge. "Nowhere does it state that students should be practicing spells. There would be no need to. None of you are in danger of the dark arts."

Phoebe's hand shot in the air.

"Yes, Miss Hibbert?" Umbridge asked, her tone souring.

"You honestly don't believe that we'll ever come against the dark arts and need to know how to protect ourselves?" Phoebe counter-questioned.

"No," Umbridge said, her voice hitching higher once again.

"But we will," Phoebe said, calmly, but firmly. "If Voldemort was able to kill Cedric right here, at Hogwarts, why couldn't he get to any of us? If he did, we'd need to know how to protect herself!"

Again, there was rallying support for Phoebe, but Umbridge silenced them all when she exclaimed, "_Lies_! You are telling _lies_, Miss Hibbert! Cedric Diggory's death was an unfortunate accident, nothing more! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead! I do not understand what possesses you to act in such a way, to dress in such a disrespectful manner, to have such a bad attitude and to tell lies! A _week_ of detention for you, Miss Hibbert! Starting tonight!"

And then, Phoebe did something Amelia never imagined she'd see Phoebe do - Phoebe got up and stormed out of class, but not after making sure to throw Umbridge's textbook down on the ground. Everyone stared and watched her storm out, as Umbridge's eyes bulged with rage.

"Well," Umbridge said, pulling herself together. "If you would turn to the first chapter in your book and begin to read, it would be most appreciated. There will be no need to talk."

* * *

Phoebe managed to miss the rest of the classes that day, much to Amelia's disappointment. Potions was bad enough, but was even worse without Phoebe as a distraction. Lunch was boring, she only listened to Herb talk about Quidditch with Malcolm, and watched Leanne oggle at Herb. Jonah Merrick still hadn't figured out how to close his mouth when he chewed, and Heidi was as dull and uninteresting as ever.

After supper was through, Amelia decided to go back to the dorms and try to start the Potions essay Snape had already assigned them, rather than hang out with everyone else in the Great Hall until it was closed. She turned down one of the corridors that mostly only students used, when a flyer nailed to the wall caught her eye.

_GALLONS OF GALLEONS!_

_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?_

_Like to earn a little extra gold?_

_Contact Fred and George Weasley,_

_Gryffindor Common Room_

_for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs_

_(we regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk)_

With a chuckle, Amelia shook her head at the poster. She had a few ideas of what Fred and George could be up to, but because she was never fully sure about what they could be inventing, she could only take a few wild guesses. She often wondered what they were up to. Particularly, she wondered about Fred.

Yes, things during the summer had been more than awkward, having to live together and see each other practically everyday. It wasn't like she had broken things off with him because she didn't have an interest in him or care about him anymore, because she did, she certainly did. Sure, she figured she might've been a bit rash in declaring her love for him when she did, but was she, really? Or was it honestly some young, dumb, but very real love she had experienced with Fred?

She wasn't going to lie to herself, she knew she loved him, in some sort of way, when it came down to it. She knew she missed him. She also didn't doubt herself in choosing to break up with him. She hadn't done it because she didn't care about him, she did it for the exact opposite - because she cared about him. She knew she'd be a shit girlfriend, spending the whole summer wallowing over Cedric. She'd lost her desire for mischief along with him, something that sparked his interest in her. In the end, hadn't she done what was fair? Give him a chance to go get the world's best girlfriend rather than have a sulky, boring one, like the girl Amelia had become? He could practically have any girl at Hogwarts, and she'd given him the opportunity to explore all his options, rather than be stuck with a now dull Hufflepuff girl.

She shook the thoughts out of her head, feeling so incredibly stupid for thinking about the whole Fred situation so much. She'd done what she believed was best for him. She wasn't going to bother him with her petty feelings and emotions, she was going to let him go off and have a great seventh year without pulling her deadweight along for the ride.

Harshly wiping the tears from her eyes, Amelia drew her breath and forced her thoughts back to the dreadful essay she had to write for Snape.


	39. Venomous Tentacula

**Hope all of you had a fabulous Halloween! Sorry for the few day wait, but this weekend was CRAZY busy! I went to one of my best friend's birthday party - a Hogwarts themed one, at that - and it turns out I'm pretty good at wandmaking :)**

**As usual, thanks for all the support! I'm not kidding, it seriously means the world to me. Especially reviews. I love reviews. Please leave some reviews, I love hearing from you! Maybe we could get past 70...? Please...? :)**

**You can leave questions for me, the author, or any of the characters as well. Keep posted, another chapter will be posted right after this one :)**

**Enjoy**!

* * *

"I can't believe that she'd sink that low," Fred grumbled beneath his breath, as he and George hurried up the stairs from the common room to their dorm. "She wouldn't. She just wouldn't write to mum."

"I dunno, I wouldn't doubt her, mate," George replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Hermione's always been like that, I don't know why you're so surprised."

"Not surprised, just irritated," Fred grumbled, tossing the bag of Fainting Fancies and clipboard onto his bed.

"Lighten up," George said, resting a hand on his twin's shoulder. "We've gotten nothing but good results thus far, and we'll just be more careful to keep an eye on Hermione when we do our research."

Fred merely grumbled in response, as Lee jogged into the room.

"Granger was a bit harsh, wasn't she?" he inquired, as Fred plopped down onto his bed and George leaned against the wall. "Threatening to write to your mum, that's just cruel."

"You're telling me," George agreed.

He proceeded to pull a Chocolate Frog from his pocket, unwrap it, and haphazardly throw the card - Helga Hufflepuff - at Fred. Seeing the face on the card, Fred's own face soured, and he ripped a clean line straight through Hufflepuff's kind face.

"He's still bitter about Amelia," George explained to Lee, who seemed a bit puzzled by Fred's action.

"Give me a frog," Fred prodded, changing the subject. George obliged, and Fred asked, "Where'd you get them anyway? And why didn't you give me any before?"

"Phoebe," George answered, chucking one in Lee's direction as well. "She's always got loads of chocolate."

"Course," Lee smirked. "You fancy the little nutter, don't you?"

George didn't answer.

A couple of mornings later, a new Daily Prophet headline caught the attention of Hogwarts.

**_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM_**

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

Seeing the headline, Phoebe's expression immediately soured. She dipped her finger into one of the jars of jam, much to Leanne's disgust, and proceeded to smear the substance across the photo of Umbridge smiling broadly beneath the headline. A couple of her rats crawled over the newspaper, beginning to gnaw away at the jam and Umbridge's face beneath it.

"So, basically, this just means that Umbridge has the okay from the Ministry to do whatever the hell she wants at Hogwarts?" Herb inquired, after Amelia finished reading the article to the table.

"Yeah," Amelia nodded with an edge to her tone. "Pretty much."

Frustrated as he ran a hand through his hair, Herb muttered, "I hope she doesn't try to mess with Quidditch."

"Quidditch, really?" Amelia asked. "Out of all the problems Umbridge could cause for us, you're worried about bloody Quidditch?"

"Yes," Herb replied a bit defensively.

"You're so thick," Amelia came back, tossing a bit of bacon at him. "Quidditch'll be the least of our worries."

"Well, I just want to be decent this year," Herbert told her. "I'm not saying we need to win, just play the best we can. For Cedric."

"Fine," Amelia muttered, knowing Herb had known how to get to her. Rising to her feet, she collected her things, and with one last sip of tea, said, "C'mon, Phoebe, we've got to go to Herbology."

"Good luck," Leanne bid, as Phoebe stood to join Amelia. "Since Umbridge is going around to inspect today."

"Right," Amelia said, rolling her eyes. Turning to Phoebe, she sighed, "Well, we might as well just go and get it over with."

Phoebe merely nodded. Usually, she looked forward to going to Herbology - it was her second favorite class after Care of Magical Creatures - but at the moment, she showed no emotion whatsoever. Amelia knew it was because of just how much she despised Umbridge.

Arriving in the greenhouse, Phoebe and Amelia dropped their things by the door, and approached the long center table while pulling their dragonhide gloves on. Amelia took her seat between Phoebe and Katie Bell, who greeted her kindly. At the beginning of the school year, Amelia feared that some of the Gryffindor students wouldn't be as kind to her because of the whole Fred situation, but she'd been wrong. George, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and even Lee were still just as friendly to her, to her relief.

Umbridge came in, wordlessly so, and took a stool in the corner. She had a clipboard, and a sour smile on her face, and was ready to inspect. To signal her readiness, she nodded to Professor Sprout.

"Alright, you lot!" Sprout commanded, clearing her throat. "Today, we will be working with Venomous Tentacula, a very dangerous plant. If you do not follow my directions carefully, I can assure you that you'll be in the hospital ward, so please do your best to follow my instructions - I'm talking to you, Summerby!" she snapped, seeing Sam Summerby - a Hufflepuff in Amelia's year - joking around with Markus Cadwallader.

"Now, follow me, and I'll show you the correct method of cutting the leaves, which are a very valuable potion ingredient," Sprout said, glancing at Umbridge, as if she expected to impress the frog-faced woman with the factoid. Umbridge scrawled something down on her clipboard, and Sprout once again cleared her throat, continuing the lesson.

"First, you must subdue the plant - it'll strangle you with little provocation, and its bite is fatal, so listen to me," Sprout hissed, once again looking at Summerby and Cadwallader. "Now, what you want to do is sever one of its vines, arms, if you will, with a simple Severing Charm - the incantation for which is Diffindo, of course, to do so. Once one of the arms is severed, the plant will be stunned, unable to move, for a few vital minutes, in which you must carefully cut off as many leaves as possible, but not too many. You don't want to kill the plant, and don't cut off those leaves from the severed arm, those won't be any good. If any of you get bit, don't even waste time asking me anything just sprint off to the hospital ward, alright? Now get to it - the leaves don't harvest themselves."

"Want to partner up?" Katie asked Amelia, after Phoebe had gone and partnered with one of the Ravenclaw girls.

"Sure," Amelia nodded with a smile. "Do you want to cut a vine off or get the leaves?"

"Leaves," Katie replied. "You're better with spells, anyway."

"Well, thank you, but I know you could do it too," Amelia said meekly. She pulled her wand from her robes, pointed it at one of the vines, and from a good distance, said, "Diffindo."

She watched as Katie began to chop the leaves off the temporarily paralyzed plant. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even hear Sam Summerby start cussing as one of the vines began to strangle him, and Professor Sprout wailing in frustration as she trotted to his aid. All she could really think about was the last time that she was in here, pruning leaves like a Muggle, which was last year, when she was serving detention with George, and more importantly, Fred.

"Hem, hem," came Umbridge's disturbingly high-pitched voice from behind them, breaking Amelia from her thoughts, finally. "Would you two girls mind answering a few questions about this class?"

"Er, I suppose not," Katie answered hesitantly.

"What do you think of Herbology?" Umbridge then inquired. "How are the lessons? What's your opinion on Professor Sprout?"

"The classes are good," Katie said. "Professor Sprout is good at her job - she knows what she's talking about. We learn a lot."

"And would you agree with Miss Bell, Miss Honeycutt?"

"Yeah," Amelia nodded.

"Thank you," Umbridge then nodded, before going to a couple of Ravenclaws to ask them questions.

Turning back to the plant, Katie shook her head, and said, "Umbridge should be examining herself. She's the worst professor we've ever had."

"Agreed," Amelia said, severing another Venomous Tentacula arm. "She doesn't even bloody try to teach us anything."

"You're right, she just gives us all kinds of crap that's even too basic for first years," Katie continued. "We're never going to be prepared to protect ourselves if we have her for a professor."

That evening, after a tiring day of classes, Amelia was studying in the library, writing an essay for Charms. Charms was one of the classes that she had with Cho, who had a change of heart, and now was nice to Amelia, though she nearly started bawling every time they spoke.

While writing her paper, she also pulled out her two-way mirror for a brief conversation with her grandmother, who was quickly whisked away due to her duties for the Order. Either way, it was nice to see her again.

"Excuse me, Amelia?"

Snapping her head up, in the faint glow of her candlelight, Amelia saw Hermione, Harry and Ron. She hadn't seen them all that much since school began, so it was a welcome surprise visit.

"Oh, hi," Amelia greeted. Attempting to clear her stuff for them to sit, she added, "Have a seat."

"Thanks," Hermione said, as she and the two boys sat.

"What's going on?" Amelia then inquired. She knew those expressions too well.

"We….we came to ask for your help," Hermione filled in, after exchanging looks with both Harry and Ron. "You can cast a Patronus, so you're obviously quite good with magic….defensive magic….and your grandmother's in the Order and everything and you were really smart helping Cedric and Harry during the Tournament last year, so we figured you'd be a good person to ask…."

"Ask what?" questioned Amelia, her eyes darting between the three of them.

"Well," Hermione gulped. "We're starting a sort of….er, group, so that we can actually learn how to protect ourselves, since Umbridge refuses to teach us. Harry's going to be teaching, since he's good with defensive magic, going up against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and all, and we thought we'd ask you to help as well, teaching and all. You're good at magic."

"So," Amelia took a breath. "You're asking me to help teach people magic against Umbridge's will, and presumably in secret?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "That's kind of exactly what we're asking you."

With one of the slyest grins she'd conjured to date, Amelia nodded, and said, "I'm in."


	40. Meeting at the Hog's Head

**I promised two chapters today :)**

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As planned, Amelia met up with the trio again before they left for the next Hogsmeade visit. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect, as Hermione, with her brilliant brain, had planned the whole thing and had not revealed all that many details. They were going to hold the meeting at the Hog's Head, which Amelia considered to be a kind of ghost of her past. And, it didn't sit all that well in her stomach, considering that it was the place at which she'd first kissed Fred.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. Apparently he hadn't been listening all that well. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which it stood. The familiar battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All four of them hesitated outside the door. Amelia assumed the other three were just nervous, having never been in the Hog's Head before, but or her, it was a much different set of reasons preventing her from going inside.

"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.

Amelia noticed the three younger students looking around in a sort of mix of awe and disgust. She supposed she must've looked similar on her first visit to the place, but now that it was nothing new, and now that she'd had her share of drinks alone on stressful nights, it didn't seem all that foreign or dodgy to her. It was just another place. Maybe she should've still felt that it was dodgy

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"

Hermione cast an appraising eye at the veiled figure.

"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."

"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"

"We'll be fine," Amelia said, trying to get him settled. "I've been in here loads of times. It'll be fine."

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but Aberforth, the barman, approached. Amelia knew little about him other than his name and the fact that he lived with a couple of goats and that he always appeared grumpy. He looked even grumpier than the last time she'd seen him, before he Yule Ball the previous year.

"What?" he grunted.

"Three butterbeers, please," said Hermione.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Eight Sickles," he said.

"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, before Amelia could protest, and passed over the silver.

The barman's eyes traveled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Amelia retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"

"You — are — a — prefect," snarled Hermione.

"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah . . ."

"That never stopped me before," Amelia winked, sipping her butterbeer as she earned a chuckle of approval from Ron.

"Oh, please don't encourage him," Hermione muttered, with a slight glare towards Amelia.

"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh look, this might be them now —"

The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho and Marietta, then fourth year Ravenclaw Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina John- son, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch- Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones; three Ravenclaw boys called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot; Ginny, Zacharias Smith, and bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise, and Phoebe, who airily followed behind George.

Immediately, Fred's eyes caught Amelia's, and whatever he had been laughing about he quickly forgot, seeing as his expression melted off his face. He gulped, as did she, and he looked back to George and Lee as soon as possible, as they stepped aside.

"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?" "Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"

Aberforth had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Amelia had a feeling that he had never seen his pub so full. "Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have….twenty-five butterbeers, please?"

Aberforth glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.

"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. Amelia couldn't help but to stare at him a bit, and he seemed to be doing everything in his power not to look at her. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these. . . ."

She watched numbly as the large chattering group took their beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to find coins.

"What have you been telling people?" Harry asked Hermione in a low voice. "What are they expecting?"

"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."

"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite Harry.

Harry tried to smile back, but did not speak. Amelia noticed that he was rather blatantly staring at Cho, who had just smiled at him and sat down on Ron's right, after saying hello to Amelia. Marietta did not smile, but gave Harry a thoroughly mistrustful look.

In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron, and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. Phoebe had taken a seat next to her, and was cooing to one of her rats which she cradled in her hands. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.

"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well — er — hi." The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

"Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea — I mean" — Harry had thrown her a sharp look — "I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" — (Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) — "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts" — "Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened — "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because . . . because . . ." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

"Well . . . that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said Zacharias Smith in a rather aggressive voice.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," he said, nodding at Harry.

"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," he shot back. "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"

"Can it, Smith," Amelia snapped, in defensive of both Harry and Cedric. "That's not why we're here. If you want to discuss the Prophet, go do it somewhere else." "It's okay, Amelia," said Harry.

That's when Amelia realized it - a good portion of the kids had shown up purely in the hopes that they'd hear a first-hand account of what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. She knew that though they thought they wanted to hear it, they really didn't.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" Harry asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Even Aberforth was listening in. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag; it was becoming steadily dirtier.

Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith's aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction. Amelia dropped her head, feeling her eyes well up, and turned her face away from the group a bit, trying to force herself to suck it up. Zacharias Smith, continued to gaze intently at Harry.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —"

"Is it true," interrupted Susan Bones, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this. "Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

The phrase stirred something in Harry's memory.

"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.

The girl smiled.

"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed. "But it's not that amazing….I mean, Amelia can conjure a Patronus as well, she's better at it than me."

Amelia gave Harry a small, grateful smile for the compliment, though no one else really paid much mind, other than a few looks in her direction before going back to Harry. She glanced up again to find Fred's eyes lingering on her and she actually smiled, but as soon as she did, he looked back to his shoes and stirred in his seat.

The veiled witch sitting alone shifted very slightly in her seat as well.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year. . . ."

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said "wow" softly. Harry looked slightly hot around the collar now.

"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone —

"Sorcerer's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho (Harry's eyes snapped onto her, she was looking at him, smiling). "All the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . . ."

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.

Harry looked uncomfortable, and shifted his weight between his legs.

"Look," he said and everyone fell silent at once, "I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff. . . .I mean, Hermione and Amelia, they helped me a lot, and so did…."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying. . . ."

"Yeah, well —" said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree. "Amelia…."

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," said Harry, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

Perhaps the word "weasel" had affected Ron particularly strongly; in any case, he was now looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him. Zacharias flushed.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in George's hand.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week —"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry, "Surely not!" When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry." Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Amelia, Phoebe and Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information. "Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has," said Luna.

"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.

"They're spirits of fire," Phoebe piped up, her wide sea-green eyes meeting Neville's with some sort of delight. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.

"Oh yes they do!" said Luna angrily. Phoebe nodded curtly to support Luna.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione. "There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"

"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Um- bridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right. . . ."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as —" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet. . . ."

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie after a few moments.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. . . ."

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature, but Amelia noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.

"Er . . ." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass him. "Well . . . I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"I — well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found . . . well, I mean to say . . . you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out . . ."

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"I — yes," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that, it's just . . ."

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione testily.

"I'm a Prefect too, Macmillan. So are Ron and Hermione," Amelia chirped. "You think you're the only one risking things here? We all are."

"No. No, of course not," said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. "I — yes, of course I'll sign." Nobody raised objections after Ernie, though Harry saw Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her name. When the last person — Zacharias — had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

He walked past Amelia with no kind of look whatsoever, but cleared his throat. George shrugged and gave her a wave, as did Lee, and Phoebe followed after them, like a little lost dog, with rats bursting from her pockets.

In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave too. Cho made rather a business of fastening the catch on her bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hair swinging forward to hide her face, but Marietta beside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Cho had little choice but to leave with her. A Marietta ushered her through the door, Cho looked back and waved at Harry.

"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, as she, Harry, Ron and Amelia walked out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later, Harry and Ron still clutching their bottles of butterbeer.

"I suppose," Harry retorted. "And, thanks again, Amelia. For helping out."

"Not a problem," she replied. "I'll give Zacharias a good kick in the arse for you, as well."

"Thanks," Harry chuckled, along with Ron.

"Well, we'll be letting you know when we need you, alright?" Hermione then said. "If we ever teach the Patronus Charm, I'm sure Harry could use you."

"Yeah, I could," Harry nodded in agreement.

"Alright, well….just let me know," Amelia said. "I'll be seeing you then, alright?"

"Sure thing," Hermione nodded.

With that, and a couple more goodbyes, Amelia stuffed her hands in her pockets and made her own route straight back to the castle, unsure of how to process all the emotions running through her head and guts.


	41. Tell Me You'll Think About It

**Hello again :-)**

**I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction.**

**Also, I hope you guys who have been wanting Fred and Amelia back together can wait just a LITTLE bit longer. It's coming, I promise!**

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The rest of the weekend came and past, and Amelia spent most of it doing homework. The next Monday morning came, and she decided to talk Leanne and Herb into joining Harry, Ron and Hermione's little club.

"I don't know, Amelia," Leanne said worriedly, adjusting her tie as they stood in the corner of the common room. "I mean….I like the idea, but what if we get caught? By Umbridge?"

"What if?" Amelia nearly mocked. "Doesn't matter. Would you rather get caught by Umbridge or killed by Death Eaters?"

Leanne winced a bit, and Herb's eyes widened, as if he wasn't able to believe what she had just said. Amelia only shrugged.

"It's true," she continued. "You'll need to know how to protect yourself. You can't stay at Hogwarts forever - and don't you want to prepare yourself for N.E.W.T's?"

"Er….we'll think about it, alright?" Herb answered, hesitantly so, glancing between Amelia and Leanne who was now clinging to him for some sort of comfort.

"Fine, fine," Amelia sighed in agreement. "Just let me know."

Leanne and Herb both nodded, and left Amelia, as they headed out through the round door hole, presumably for breakfast. Meanwhile, Phoebe was just coming in to the common room. She was already dressed, in her school robes with Hufflepuff colors. Her hair was as messy as ever, with its usual hippogriff feathers and twigs, but Amelia noticed something new in her hair - a few small, pink rosebuds.

"Where're you coming from, looking so happy?" Amelia inquired with a smirk, approaching Phoebe.

"I was with Fred and George," she answered, like it should've been obvious. "They wanted my input for flavors for their trick candies, since I'm always eating sweets."

"Ah," Amelia nodded, her expression dropping.

Tilting her head, Phoebe examined Amelia's face, and said, "You know, both you and Fred are being stupid. Stupid. You both fancy each other, obviously, but you're too stubborn to get back together. You, in particular, Amelia, are being a stubborn prat."

"I am not!" Amelia shrieked, slightly taken aback.

Phoebe, being Phoebe, kept her cool as a small smile came over her face, as a rat crawled over her shoulder.

"It's okay, we're all prats sometimes," Phoebe said. She picked up her knapsack from the floor, and followed Amelia back out into the corridor. "Why'd you break up with Fred anyway?"

"Phoebe," Amelia sighed, exasperated. She didn't make eye contact with Phoebe. She didn't want to talk about it.

"Well….?" Phoebe persisted, her short legs moving fast to keep up with Amelia's long ones.

"You really want to know?" she grumbled, coming to a halt.

She allowed a group of third-year girls to make their way past, so that they wouldn't overhear what she was about to tell Phoebe, who nodded, meaning she wanted to know why she had broken up with Fred.

"Well," Amelia began, her breath hitching. "It's just….you know how I….how all of us….felt when Cedric died. I talked to Harry, and he said….he said, that after Cedric died, his, er, spirit, I guess, came to him, and among other things, told Harry that he loved me. That just made things worse, and I was so upset and depressed and confused, that I….I didn't think that it was fair to Fred to have me as a mopey, boring girlfriend."

Knitting her eyebrows together, Phoebe stated, "But you never loved Cedric. Not in that way."

"No," Amelia supposed, meeting Phoebe's almost inhumanly large eyes with her own. "I didn't….but I felt…."

Holding up a hand, Phoebe silenced Amelia, and then said, "You loved Cedric like a brother, nothing more. How you loved Fred, that was different. You're patronizing Cedric by contemplating your love for him just because he died. It's not fair to Ced, Amelia. You know you didn't love him like you love Fred. And it's not fair to Fred either. He's still all broken up about you. And when people love each other, they deal with each other, whether they're mopey and depressed or not. That's the whole point of love. That's what it really is, sticking by and supporting each other."

Amelia could only stare at Phoebe. Deep down in her gut, she knew that she was right. She hadn't - didn't - love Cedric in a romantic sense. She knew Fred would've, and still would, help her regarding her feelings about Cedric's death, but she still felt that if she did confide in him, it would be a kind of a burden on him, and that still didn't seem like it was fair to him, at least in her mind.

"Well, just tell me you'd think about Fred?" Phoebe then asked with a slight sigh. "Because you're driving me mad and Fred's driving George mad, and its no secret you two still fancy each other."

"Fine," Amelia agreed mousily. "I'll….I'll think about things with Fred."

"Good!" Phoebe praised. "Can we get some breakfast now? I'm parched, and pumpkin juice sounds lovely right about now."

"Sure thing," Amelia nodded with a small smile.

They turned around, and saw a group of students huddled around the Hufflepuff message board that hung next to the door. Apparently, they missed whatever was so intriguing the first time they passed it. Out of curiosity, they headed back that way, to read the new notice posted on it.

**_By Order of_**

**_THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_**

_All student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups and Clubs and henceforth disbanded._

_An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students._

_Permission to reform may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)._

_No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor._

_Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled._

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

_Signed,_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge_

_High Inquisitor_

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed a now irate Phoebe.

"What about Quidditch?" chimed in Herb. "She's put off Quidditch as well? C'mon, you lot, we've got to go find out about Quidditch!"

With that, the rest of the Hufflepuff team and the onlookers followed Herb, who seemed to be on a mission to recover the Quidditch team, leaving Phoebe and Amelia behind at the board.

"You don't think….," Amelia muttered lowly, looking to Phoebe. "You don't think she was there, do you? Or had people in there?"

"I don't know," Phoebe replied in a whisper. "I think a lot of things about that woman, but I don't think she'd be smart enough to know where we were going to go. Maybe….maybe she has nargles? And they're making her all paranoid?"

"Merlin, Phoebe," Amelia grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Phoebe inquired, again trying to keep pace with Amelia as they raced towards the Great Hall.

"I think you're actually having a serious conversation with me, and then you bring up nargles!" Amelia retorted, exasperated.

"Nargles are serious!" Phoebe defended herself, as they entered the Hall. "They're a very annoying and real problem!"

* * *

Late that night, or rather, very early that next morning, Amelia was still awake, staring at the dark canopy of her bed, which was unable to stare back down at her. Mindlessly, she fiddled with the compass around her neck, that hung from the same chain as the locket that contained her family's picture. Groaning slightly as she heard Phoebe utter an earth-shaking snore, she reached over to her nightstand for her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered lightly.

The light she conjured was just enough to illuminate the photograph of herself as a baby, her grandmother, and her parents. Looking down on the photo, they all seemed so terribly happy, not at all how Amelia would've assumed they'd look, considering the time they were living in. Her gran's hair was only beginning to fade from its once bright blonde color, though her eyes were blue and bright and sparkling as ever, as she smiled down at the baby in her daughter's arms.

Callie, Amelia's mother, looked like the happiest woman on the planet, seeming to radiate happiness, even through the picture. Her hair, a faded pastel pink color, was hastily tied out of her face, her own blue eyes, much like her mother's, were brimming with tears, but happy tears. Ian - Amelia's father - had one arm around Callie's shoulders, and the other positioned so that he tenderly ran the tips of his fingers over Amelia's chubby baby cheeks as she seemed to sleep peacefully.

Upon glancing at the picture with more scrutiny, she realized she'd never really looked at her dad in the picture before. She'd spent plenty of time looking at her gran and her mum, but never much at her dad, for some reason. Looking at him now, he was a handsome lad. She could see what her mum saw in him - finely chiseled features, so that he was handsome, but had kind of an edge about his face. His hair had grown from the mohawk Amelia had first seen him with, and was now a bit shaggy and dark, slightly hanging in his eyes. When she saw his eyes, Amelia realized that they were hers. With her hazel-brown eyes, she'd assumed she'd inherited them from the Hathorne side of the family, after seeing her grandfather's. But now, seeing her father's, she realized her eyes much more resembled his than they did her grandfather's. That gave her some sort of relief, in some kind of way.

With a soft kind of smile, she closed the locket, and let it drop back around her neck, limp in the chain. The compass began to feel warm against her chest, through the fabric of her Black Sabbath t-shirt. Curious, she took it in her hands and pried it open, and watched in awe as the background changed to a kind of teal, and the arrow emerged from the center, pointing to her nightstand once again. Wondering if the thing really was telling her something, she pointed her wand over her nightstand. She saw her Potions book, which couldn't be what her heart was trying to tell her, a hippogriff feather given to her by Phoebe, again, not what it could've been telling her, and finally, a compact mirror which she'd nearly forgotten about….

She picked it up and opened it with careful fingers, to reveal her grandmother and her grandmother's clear blue eyes looking into hers.

"Gran?" Amelia whispered, quietly, so not to wake Leanne, Phoebe or Heidi.

"Hello, dear," Zinnia greeted in a hushed tone. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd remember to use your mirror."

"Er, sorry," Amelia apologized, tugging at her hair. "I've been really busy…."

"Trust me, darling, I know," Zinnia responded with a slight smirk. "I heard about what happened at the Hog's Head."

"You did?" Amelia inquired. "How?"

"The veiled witch?" Zinnia countered, testing Amelia's memory. Seeing her granddaughter nod, she continued, "That was Mundungus Fletcher."

"Dung?" Amelia mused, remembering the strange man from 12 Grimmauld Place. "But why?"

"Alastor's been having him keep an eye on Harry," Zinnia explained. "Had to cross dress to get in, though, he's been banned from the Hog's Head for quite some time now….anyway, you know what you're getting into with this secret lesson club business?"

"Gran, you're not going to change my mind, I know I need to…."

Cutting her off, Zinnia said, "I'm not trying to get you to change your mind, Amelia. I think it's a great idea. I just want you to know what you've signed yourself up for, that's all. Be prepared."

"I'm as prepared as I can be," Amelia replied.

"Good," nodded Zinnia.

"Well, what've you been up to?" Amelia then asked.

"Nothing, really," Zinnia said airily. "Just things for the Order….deary, I hate to cut things short, but I know you need a good night's sleep. You look exhausted."

"Yeah," Amelia yawned in agreement. "Alright, love you, Gran."

"I love you too, Amelia," Zinnia smiled. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

Just as they were both to let go of the connection, Amelia cleared her throat, and asked, "Gran?"

"Yes, dear?"

With a breath of courage, Amelia then stated, "I want to meet my parents."

Zinnia's expression melted into one that Amelia was no longer able to decipher, before returning to a small smile, as Zinnia said, "Alright. I'll see if I can arrange it. Now, goodnight, and I love you."

"Love you too," Amelia said.

She clicked the compact mirror shut, placed it back onto her nightstand, and fell into a restless slumber plagued with visions of her family - the good and the evil.


	42. Disarming

**Hello friends!**

**I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

**I hope those of you wanting Fred and Amelia back together are a little happy with me for this chapter...there's more on its way, I promise. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"I've been there," Phoebe said, as she skipped alongside Amelia. "It was full of winter coats after Buckbeak tore mine to shreds…."

"Buckbeak?" Amelia inquired absentmindedly.

"Yeah, the hippogriff that Professor Hagrid used to have," Phoebe replied. "I left my coat on the ground, and he got a bit excited, and, well, that was the end of my coat."

"Ah," Amelia nodded, as she and Phoebe rounded the corridor.

Amelia herself had never been into this "room of requirement." She'd read about it, or at least she vaguely recalled having read about it sometime, somewhere, but she'd never found it or been in it. When Hermione found her in the library to tell her that it was where they were going to be having the next meeting, she became extremely intrigued.

The two Hufflepuff girls arrived at a large wooden door with a brass handle, which Phoebe seized, and pulled open. Inside, the walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean Thomas, Ginny, Neville Longbottom and Parvati Patil had already arrived, and were all in awe of the room as well.

"This is brilliant," Amelia breathed, looking around with her mouth hanging open.

"You could say that again," commented Ron.

"Whoa," Dean uttered, impressed. "What is this place?"

Harry took the liberty of attempting to explain, as the others filtered through the door, until everyone had arrived by about eight o'clock. Even Herb and Leanne had come, much to Amelia's delight. There was some chattering, until Hermione was the one to bring up official business.

"I think we ought to elect a leader," said Hermione.

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," said Hermione, unperturbed. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

Everybody put up their hands, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very halfheartedly.

"Er — right, thanks," said Harry, his face burning. "And — what, Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred. THere was a smile on his face, but his eyes didn't match the expression. Amelia couldn't help but to stare at him, even though she was perfectly aware of what she was doing.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, and then at Amelia, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?" There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

"All in favor of the D.A.?" said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. "That's a majority — motion passed!"

She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top in large letters.

"Right," said Harry, when she had sat down again, "shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful —"

"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"What did I tell you about canning it, Smith?" Amelia interjected, once again feeling the need to step up - for Harry, and for Cedric.

"Can you give me an answer, then, Honeycutt?" Zacharias countered, glaring at her. "What use is a spell any first-year can do?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life last June."

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet. Amelia's eyes fell to the ground.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry said. Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

"Okay," said Harry, his mouth slightly drier than usual with all those eyes upon him, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

He seemed to feel very odd to be issuing instructions, but not nearly as odd as seeing them followed. Everybody got to their feet at once and divided up.

Amelia walked over to Phoebe, who was a few steps away, chatting with George. Fred was next to his brother, arms crossed, and face turned, determined not to make eye contact with Amelia. Even though she knew how stubborn he was, and how awkward things between them still were, approaching him still made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

"Phoebe, want to partner up?" Amelia asked quickly, nervously tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, sorry," Phoebe replied, in her usual airy tone, as she turned slightly to give Amelia a small smile. "George and I have already partnered up."

Amelia's eyes narrowed. She was smart enough to know what Phoebe and George were up to.

"Old Freddie here doesn't have a partner, though," George winked, playfully clapping his hand down on her shoulder with a slight smirk.

"Lee?!" Fred hollered. Amelia saw he was struggling to get out of it.

"I've partnered with Katie, mate!" Lee responded from across the room.

"Come off it!" George encouraged, pulling Fred in as he dropped an arm around his shoulder.

He then took Amelia under his other arm, pulled her closer, and forced the two to actually look at each other, which they hadn't done since the end of June when Amelia broke things off. And, looking into Fred's eyes, she realized things hadn't really changed - he still had the same effect on her, making her feel overwhelming, and embarrassingly giddy. If Phoebe had felt the same way, Amelia would've assumed she would've said there were nargles in her guts.

"Well," George cleared his throat. "I suppose we should all get to it - just remember, I don't want to be an uncle anytime soon, alright?"

"Git," Fred muttered under his breath. Yet, his eyes didn't move. They were completely focused on Amelia.

"Good," George them smiled. "This way, Phoebe?"

"Oh, sure," Phoebe agreed, starting to follow George again. "Be careful to avoid the nargles, though. I thought I felt some this way…."

Phoebe and George had gone far enough away, so that even with everyone else in the room, Fred and Amelia knew that they were on their own. They stood there, still with room enough for George and Phoebe to stand between them if they so pleased, staring at each other's shoes rather than their faces. Amelia felt her face get hot, and presumably bright red, as she attempted, and failed, to swallow her nerves and all the other feelings she was choking on.

"Well….er….," Amelia mumbled, in an extremely awkward kind of manner.

"We'll practice, yeah?" Fred then replied quickly. He, too was awkward, as he took a few steps back from her, preparing his wand. After he took a deep breath, he said, "Ladies first."

"No, you do the honors," Amelia responded. He looked up at her with some kind of hesitation, and she nearly lost her breath, before saying, "Really. Go ahead."

"Alright," Fred nodded. He took a deep breath, made a move with his wand, and said, "_Expelliarmus_!"

She prepared herself, holding her own wand with an iron grip, but she soon realized she didn't need to. Fred's spell missed her by a long shot, whizzing diagonally away from her, to rebound against the wall and hit George in the back.

"Oi, what was that for?!" George shouted, gripping his back as he turned to glare at Fred.

"Sorry," Fred replied, clearly quite embarrassed as Phoebe - _Phoebe_ \- began to snicker at him. "Bad aim."

"You could say that again," George commented with a shake of the head. He then turned back to Phoebe, who successfully disarmed him.

"Well, er, okay," came Harry, clearing his throat as he approached Fred and Amelia.

He'd been doing rounds around the room, helping people and giving them pointers, but clearly sensed the tension now between Fred and Amelia as he came to see how they were doing.

"Why don't you try disarming Fred, Amelia?" Harry suggested.

"Sure," she nodded. Readying her wand, she said, "_Expelliarmus_."

She and Harry watched as she successfully disarmed Fred, causing his wand to go flying straight out of his hands and up, hitting the ceiling. Fearing it would break upon impact with the floor, Amelia thought quick and used a Summoning Charm to grab it, and then hesitantly walked to hand it back over to Fred.

"Sorry," she said, thrusting it towards him.

"It's alright," he replied lowly, accepting his wand.

Somehow, time had gotten away from them all, as Harry announced that it was already ten past nine and they all really should be getting back to their dorms if they didn't want to get into any trouble. Fred and Amelia parted, as they joined the mass of students attempting to get out of the room all at once.

Fred looked for George, and Amelia for Phoebe, but neither could find who they were looking for. They both safely assumed Phoebe and George had left together, and left together early, purposely leaving the two of them alone together. Katie and Lee weren't anywhere to be seen either, and Amelia watched as Leanne and Herb giddily made their way down a restricted hallway, presumably to snog.

With a jolt of some kind of confidence, Fred then offered to Amelia, "I'll walk you back to your dorms, y'know, if you want."

She looked at him in a kind of quizzical manner that made him nervous, and he added, "In case Peeves is out, y'know. Or Filch."

Amelia smiled vaguely, knowing that Fred knew that she was perfectly capable of handling both Peeves and Filch.

"Er, sure," she nodded. "Because….Peeves, right?"

"And Filch," Fred added with his own slight smile.

The two exited the room together, and made their way down a few cases of stairs and around a few corners, heading towards the Hufflepuff common rooms by the kitchen. Neither talked, and Amelia wondered if Fred felt the same, or at least similarly, to the way she was - like there was a nargle war in her gut, but at the same time, stupidly giddy. She knew what she was feeling like - a teen in love, or at least infatuated, and she hated it. Not that she hated Fred, just that she hated feeling so….full of feelings.

"Well, er, g'night," Amelia concluded, wringing her hands as they came to the stack of barrels guarding the common room. "Thanks, Weasley."

"Not a problem, Honeycutt," Fred replied with his own sly grin. It was the kind of grin that made Amelia want to slap him across the face and kiss him at the same time. "I'm just glad I didn't have to beat up Peeves for you or anything."

"Ah, right," Amelia nodded. His grin was completely infectious. "You beat Peeves up a lot? I didn't know you could really beat up poltergeists."

"I'd try if I needed to," Fred winked.

"Good night," Amelia said again. Her smile grew, and her cheeks grew hotter. "And thanks."

"Not a problem."

Amelia entered the Hufflepuff basement, feeling a kind of silly happiness she hadn't felt anything close to in months. She carried this feeling up the set of stairs to her dormitory, where she found Heidi in bed, reading, Leanne sitting in bed with a look of pure ecstasy on her face, and Phoebe, staring at herself in the mirror as she adjusted a feather in her hair.

"You look as giddy as Leanne since she just snogged Herb," Heidi commented. "Who did you snog?"

"No one," Amelia said quickly, clearing her throat.

She glanced at the pictures pasted on the wall over her bed, and looked directly at the one of Ced she'd clipped from the _Daily Prophet_.

"No one."


	43. Banned, but Back Together

**I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

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**I hope this chapter will make all of you begging for Fred and Amelia to get back together happy. And maybe those of you who want George and Phoebe together will smile a little as well. **

**Enjoy :-)**

* * *

While nearly everyone else at Hogwarts had decided to go watch the first Quidditch match of the year between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Amelia had stayed behind in her common room to study. In particular, to finish and perfect her essay on Venomous Tentacula plants.

To be quite honest, Amelia knew she could've finished the essay easily in the time she had between the match and her next class, but she'd used it as an excuse not to go. She didn't think she could handle being on the Quidditch pitch, at least not yet. She didn't think she could bear having to go back to the place where Cedric died and having to stand there to watch something so trivial as a Quidditch match.

Herb had gone, while rallying and exciting the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, telling them they'd have to pay close attention to the strategies of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams. Leanne had gone only because Herb had gone and the two were becoming increasingly inseparable and insufferable, and Phoebe had gone wearing a Gryffindor scarf she'd borrowed from George for the occasion.

With a grumbly sort of sigh, Amelia dunked her quill into the inkwell once again, chewing her bottom lip as she picked up where she'd left off writing. Lucy was sprawled on her lap, laying on her back, paws in the air as she batted at the compass and locket around Amelia's neck, much to her annoyance. She loved her little cat to death, but it seemed like the cat only had an interest in her when Amelia most wanted to be left alone.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar noise of the doors squealing open, and then the bombardment of footsteps into the previously silent room. She grumbled again, but this time for different reasons.

"It was brilliant, Amelia, you really should've come," Herb told her breathlessly, once he got the chance to. "Gryffindor took the win, just in the nick of time - Slytherin was ahead, but Potter got the Snitch."

"Good for him," Amelia commented half-heartedly.

Sure, she considered Harry a friend, but she really had no interest whatsoever in Quidditch.

"It really doesn't matter much, though," Phoebe chimed in glumly. "Umbridge banned Harry, Fred and George from Quidditch. For life."

"What?!" Amelia questioned, now that she was interested. "Why?"

"They got into a nasty fight with Draco Malfoy after the match," Leanne answered. "All the Slytherins were singing this awful song making fun of Ron Weasley, saying he's horrible and was born in a bin and all other kinds of mean things….I couldn't really hear what they were fighting about, but I'm guessing it had to be something relating to the song….Malfoy swaggered over to them, and before we all knew it, the three of them were pounding him into the ground. I can't say I really blame them, though…."

"And Umbridge banned them for life because they punched that prat a few times?" Amelia inquired for verification. "But she didn't give any detentions or anything for the nasty song the Slytherins came up with?"

"No," Herb shook his head.

"I talked to Katie," came Leanne. "She said McGonagall was going to give them detentions and that whole kind of thing, but Umbridge burst in and banned them for life. Even took their brooms."

Amelia rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was angry, but definitely far from surprised that Umbridge would do such a thing.

"I really don't like her," Phoebe stated. "I never did like her."

"She was just waiting for an excuse to do something like this," Amelia said, shaking her head. "I just bet she was."

"I wouldn't argue with you there," Herb commented. "I don't think Umbridge ever liked Harry….and the two Weasleys, well, it's obvious why they'd clash with her…."

"Yeah," Leanne nodded in agreement, as did Amelia.

Unlike Amelia, though, Leanne then cleared her throat in a slightly awkward manner, and then looked to Herb, and asked, "Er, aren't you doing your Prefect rounds tonight?"

At first, Herb looked rather dumbfounded, raising his eyebrows as he looked back to his girlfriend. Amelia elbowed him in the ribs, and then he got it, immediately replying, "Oh, yeah!"

"Better get going then, right?" Leanne asked.

"Right," nodded Herb, before the two of them grabbed each other's hands and sprinted back through the round doors and into the corridor.

"They're very blunt about their relationship," Phoebe commented, adjusting one of the small rosebuds in her hair. "I hope they're being smart about things."

"Me too," Amelia agreed. She then questioned, "Where do you keep getting the roses in your hair? I've never noticed them until recently."

"Oh," Phoebe smiled faintly, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as the flowers in her hair. "George gives them to me. I told them about how my grandad used to….wait, don't you actually have Prefect duties tonight?"

"Merlin, you're right," Amelia said. She briefly checked her watch, before muttering, "I've got to go…."

"Alright, I'll come with you," Phoebe said. "I wanted to see how George, Fred and Harry were doing after their ban, but I never got the chance….suppose you could walk me to and from the Gryffindor dormitories while you're doing your rounds?"

"Sure," Amelia agreed with a slight smile. "Let's go - maybe if we hurry, we can find Herb and Leanne and make their eyebrows grow like mad."

Phoebe giggled. "Maybe."

The two girls then left the Hufflepuff dormitories. Amelia was supposed to be doing the whole Prefect business, making sure everyone was getting back to their own dorms in time and all that jazz, but she didn't really care. She liked the Prefect privilege of being able to be out after curfew herself, and she didn't blame others for liking it as well - that was, of course, if she liked those people.

The two Hufflepuff girls then came to the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitories. The Fat Lady appeared to be nodding off, leaning into the corner of her painting, as she snored in a not-so-lady-like kind of way.

"Oi!" Phoebe said rather loudly, waking the Fat Lady out of her slumber.

"You two aren't in Gryffindor, are you?" inquired the Fat Lady, narrowing her eyes. "Familiar….but not in Gryffindor…."

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_," Phoebe recited.

"Alright," sighed the Fat Lady. Swinging her hinges open, she muttered, "Get in, get in."

Phoebe and Amelia proceeded to climb through the passageway, and into the Gryffindor common room.

"How did you two get in here?" Ron inquired, from where he stood talking to Hermione.

"You Gryffindors aren't very secretive about your passwords," Phoebe said with a sly grin. With a shrug, she then added, "George told me."

"So, then, did you tell him how to get into the Hufflepuff dorms?" Ron inquired.

"No, of course not!" Phoebe said, as if she was offended. "Don't you know that the Hufflepuff common room is the only set of common rooms and dorms in the castle that has never, ever, been seen by students who weren't in Hufflepuff?"

Ron looked rather dumbfounded, while Hermione shrugged, and with a bit of a smirk, nudged him and said, "You would've known that if you'd read Hogwarts, a History."

"Not that again," Ron grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Amelia chuckled, but the conversation ended as Harry came trotting down the stairs from the boys' dormitories, with a strangely kind of grayish-colored fabric draped in his arms and an old piece of parchment folded in his hands. When he noticed that Amelia and Phoebe were standing there as well, his expression dropped immediately, like a child caught by his mother with his hand in the cookie jar minutes before dinner.

"An invisibility cloak?" Phoebe observed before Amelia could. Her eyes widened, as she inquired, "Oh, where are you lot sneaking off to?"

"To see Hagrid," Hermione informed her in a hushed tone. "He's come back."

"Really?!" Phoebe exclaimed. She seemed more than ecstatic to hear about her favorite professor. "And you're….can I come with you?"

"Er, sure," Harry filled in, since the other two didn't answer. "Sorry, Amelia, but I really don't think you'll be able to fit under the cloak with the rest of us…."

"It's fine," Amelia assured him. With a wink, she then said, "I don't think I want to run any risk of running into those Skrewts again anyway…."

The deadpan humour earned a bit of chuckling, before Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Phoebe started to organize themselves beneath the cloak, disappearing except for their shoes, just as two sets of feet trotted down the stairs from the boys' dormitory.

"I thought I heard Hufflepuffs," George joked upon arriving with Fred.

"Can't stay away, can you, Honeycutt?" Fred smirked, and Amelia couldn't help but to smile as well. She didn't know why, but Fred Weasley sure had that effect on her.

"I just came with Phoebe, is all," Amelia replied with a shrug, trying to be coy.

"Hi," Phoebe chimed in, popping her head out from beneath the invisibility cloak.

"Hi," George responded, smiling at her. "Where are you lot sneaking off to?"

"To see Hagrid, but keep it quiet, alright?" Ron said touchily, poking his head out as well.

"No need to have an attitude, little brother," George assured him. "Only asking."

With that, George began shoving his way beneath the cloak with the rest of them, causing quite an uproar.

"What d'you think you're doing?" Ron and Hermione asked, almost in sync.

"Going with you, what's it look like you git?" George shot back, clearly more at Ron than Hermione.

"George, er, you really can't fit," Harry said.

"Fine," George mumbled, backing out. "But I know what kind of trouble you three get into and if you get my - Phoebe, in any of that, I'll be after you."

Grumbling and groaning, the three fifth-years obliged, and with Phoebe, then left the common room. Amelia smirked slightly, what George had just said only confirmed her suspicions that George and Phoebe weren't just friends as the two of the claimed.

"Well," George sighed, weaving his fingers together as he turned his attention back to Fred and Amelia. "I think I'll leave you two to it."

And before either Fred or Amelia knew it, George had disappeared back up the stairs, leaving the two of them alone. Turning to face Fred, Amelia found herself taking a deep breath, as she involuntarily felt her cheeks redden and the nargle-like sensation return to the pit of her gut.

"So, er, I heard about Quidditch….," Amelia uttered awkwardly, trying to make conversation.

"Amelia," Fred said, taking a step towards her. She rarely heard him call her anything but Honeycutt, she she had some idea of what was coming. "Can I just ask….why?"

"Why what?" Amelia countered, playing dumb.

"Why'd you end it?" he asked.

She took another deep breath, and in that way of hers, attempted to rationalize, explaining, "It's not….we _dated_ a couple of months, that was it. It wasn't….it wasn't like we were completely _serious_ or anything, and I - …."

She was then cut off by Fred, who said, "I'm serious. I was serious."

Before she could say anything else, he did something she'd found herself missing in the past few months - he kissed her. And she found herself doing something that she hadn't done in a few months - she gave in. She'd been wanting him to kiss her, she'd been wanting to kiss him, and she finally just let it happen, she let him put his arms around her, and she let her fingers slip into his hair, and she let herself enjoy it.

When they stopped, she found herself crying. Maybe it was just being a teenage girl, maybe it was everything that had been happening in the past year or so of her life, maybe it was both, but she just cried. Fred didn't question her, he just held her against his chest and let her cry into his homemade jumper.

"Is it….Cedric?" Fred asked lowly, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb, and then tucking a loose wisp of honey-colored hair behind her hair for her.

She only nodded, before explaining, "I just….it was a lot losing him, y'know? He was my best friend and it was so sudden and by You-Know-Who….and then my grandma and my family and with Cedric….I was confused and upset, and I didn't….I didn't think you'd want or you deserved a better girlfriend."

"I don't, and I don't, I'd never, ever, want or deserve anyone but you," he assured her.

"Fred, how can you say that?" Amelia asked. "We're so young, we've barely known each other, and…."

"Can you stop trying to rationalize or whatever it is you're doing, please?" Fred requested with a slight smile. "You can't always rationalize everything. I know you've been through a lot, but can't you accept that I love you?"

After biting her bottom lip, Amelia nodded, and replied, "I love you, too."


	44. LAH

**I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've posted a chapter! I've lost a bit of steam and I've been busy with school and the holidays, but I'm getting back on track! I'd like to make it to Christmas in the series by actual Christmas so I can have a bit of a "Christmas special." But, thanks for the patience you guys. Sorry if this chapter is a little rough, but I'm back, and this fic isn't going anywhere :)**

**I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

**Enjoy :D**

* * *

"Why?"

It was the first word that escaped Amelia's mouth upon removing her mouth from Fred's, since they'd been snogging for quite a while. They'd been left alone in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, what was really expected from them?

"Why what?" Fred countered, slightly confused as his eyes scanned Amelia's still tear-dampened face.

"Why me, why any of this?" Amelia asked. She went to wipe the new tears from her cheeks, but Fred did it for her. "It's just….there's no….reasoning. You and me, I mean. We just happened."

"You're far too logic-needy to be a Hufflepuff," Fred chuckled. "You're reminding me of Hermione….it's a wonder the two of you didn't end up in Ravenclaw."

"Fred, I'm being serious!" Amelia stated, punching him in the chest. To his surprise, it actually hurt, and he rubbed the spot where her fist made contact. "Why? Why did we….er, fall….fall in….love? It just happened, and it was, and is so overwhelming, and what's the reasons? Where are the reasons?"

Once again, much to her annoyance, Fred simply chuckled at her. And, once again, she raised a fist to punch him in the chest, but this time, he was prepared, and he caught her fist, effectively blocking the punch, which only seemed to further annoy her. He smirked.

"Why do you need a reason?" he asked. "You're just terrified to admit you have feelings. Also of commitment, I believe….it's rather adorable, though, and keeps things interesting, to a point. Can't you stop being such a logical git for one moment and just accept something? You don't need a reason. Just know that I love you and accept it."

"Fine," she grumbled, seeming a bit hot and bothered.

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she turned her head, so that he instead kissed her cheek. Neither party seemed to mind. In turning her head, she glanced at the clock, and saw that it was already a few minutes past ten. She sighed.

"I've got to get going," Amelia told Fred. Even now, she still felt her stomach erupt in nargles, just knowing that he was looking at her like that, and he saw that she felt like she had nargles in her gut, and he tried to kiss her again, but again, only landed one on the cheek, as she said, "Really, Fred, c'mon. I've got to go."

With that, Amelia nodded, and just as she was about to exit the room, Fred told her, "I expect you to cheer up a bit and create some new pranks, alright?"

To herself, she smiled, pausing for a moment only to say, "Sure, Fred," before she disappeared out of the Gryffindor common rooms, leaving Fred more happy and confused than he'd been in a long time.

Amelia was careful on her way back to the Hufflepuff basement, taking the back route hallways, though she hoped that if she did get caught, she could think fast on her feet and come up with a Prefect-related reason to explain why she was out at such a time. But, she was lucky, and made it back to the common room without a problem, and found a group of students still up and playing Exploding Snap while drinking firewhiskey by the fireplace.

"Oi, Amelia, care to join us?" inquired Malcolm Preece, offering up the bottle of firewhiskey with a welcoming grin.

With her own smirk, Amelia grabbed the bottle from him and lightheartedly sighed in reply, "Disappointed in you, Preece. Drinking? No, no….I'll have to confiscate this…."

The others around the table laughed as she took a long-drawn sip from the bottle, as did Malcolm, though he then revealed another bottle with a wink.

"Sure you don't want to join?" Tasmin Applebee then asked. "We're about to start a new game."

"I'm good, but thanks for the offer, and thanks for the firewhiskey," Amelia repeated. "G'night."

A chorus of "g'nights" followed Amelia through the doors the the girls dormitory, as she continued to drink. She came to her own dorm, where she found Leanne snoring beneath a mountain of blankets, and Phoebe, looking rather dreamy, as she sat upright in her pajamas in her bed, rats crawling all over her.

"Have you been drinking too, Pheebs?" Amelia inquired with a slight smirk, knowing that Phoebe would probably be the last person to be drinking. Not having gotten an answer, Amelia plopped down on her bed, scooped Lucy into her arms, took another swig of firewhiskey, and then asked, "Ah, is it George? I heard him nearly almost call you his girlfriend earlier."

After a moment, Phoebe, almost in a daze, replied, "George? Oh, yes, I suppose. He is quite wonderful…."

"And your boyfriend?" Amelia teased, hoping to get a definitive answer out of Phoebe.

Though silent, Phoebe's blush told Amelia all she needed to know.

Amelia squealed in a way that she knew would annoy Phoebe, who then broke out of her dreamy state and rolled her eyes, hiding most of her face with her massive and wild hair.

"So you broke things off with Elliott and everything, then?" Amelia asked, as she transferred herself from her bed to Phoebe's. "Even though you were so in love and so in love with frogs?"

"Well….," Phoebe drawled, embarrassed, as she gulped and turned red again. "...No….not exactly…."

"Phoebe!" Amelia scolded, slapping her friend on the arm with more force than she had intended to. "You haven't broken up with him yet?"

"No!" Phoebe shrieked defensively. It was a shock that Leanne hadn't woken up with all the commotion. "No, I haven't."

"Phoebe, you can't do that!" Amelia continued. "You've got to….pick, y'know, or else its not fair to anyone."

"Why should I listen to you?" Phoebe asked sharply. "You're not a relationship expert or anything even close, you can't even admit that you and Fred - …."

Amelia cut her off, saying, "For your information, Fred and I just got back together."

"Oh," Phoebe drawled, her eyes widening and her expression dropping. She crossed her arms once again, and then haughtily said, "Well, it's just that I've never had one boy show an interest in me, let alone two. I would just like to enjoy it for a little while, now, good night, Amelia."

With that, she retreated beneath her covers with her rats, effectively hiding from Amelia, who sighed.

"Good night, Phoebe," she replied in a barely audible whisper, before retreating to her own bed, where she fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Sunday morning, Amelia decided to stop badgering Phoebe about her "boy issues," she she could try to make a decision on her own. Instead, she asked her wild-haired friend about something she'd somehow completely forgotten about the previous evening - the return of Hagrid.

"So, I….I forgot to ask you, about last night, that is," Amelia questioned, after the two girls found themselves the last ones in their dorm.

"Oh," Phoebe replied, brushing a rat off her shoulder. In a lower, hushed tone, she told Amelia, "Yes….he's been with the giants."

"Giants?" Amelia repeated, eyes widening.

"Yes," Phoebe whispered, pulling Amelia closer to her so there was less of a chance to be overheard. Amelia adjusted the compass that Phoebe had given her around her neck, as Phoebe continued, whispering, "Dumbledore sent Professor Hagrid and Madame Maxime - she is part giant, after all - to go find them and try to get their help, or at least, their alliance with the Order."

"Why?"

"So He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can't," Phoebe said, face darkening. "The last time….during the last war….he had all kinds of other creatures like the giants in his army….Dumbledore just wanted to prepare. He didn't want You-Know-Who to have the advantage again."

"So, did the giants make an alliance with the Order?" Amelia then asked.

"Not exactly," Phoebe informed her. "They gave the Gurg - er, that's the chief - gifts and things, but then that chief was killed and there were Death Eaters and a whole fiasco of things, so, no, it doesn't seem as if the giants have definitively decided who they're siding with….but at least Professor Hagrid and Madame Maxime have sweetened them up a bit."

Amelia raised her eyebrows, and let out a sigh. It wasn't great, but she supposed it was better than nothing.

To diffuse the slight tension, Amelia said, "Sounds as if the giants are just as decisive as you are."

Phoebe's cheeks went pink. "Shut up."

Amelia smirked, and said, "A hook's only meant to hold one fish."

"Stop being a arse," Phoebe said, though she couldn't suppress a hint of a grin as the two girls left the Hufflepuff basement.

"It's kind of my thing," Amelia winked, and the two sent off for breakfast.

The two girls came into the Great Hall, and took their seats with Malcolm, Herb, Heidi and Leanne at the table for breakfast. Amelia had just reached for the plate of scrambled eggs to get herself a serving, when she felt a wad of paper collide with the back of her head.

With a groan and a roll of her eyes, she turned, picking it up from the ground, and saw Fred and George grinning at her from the Gryffindor table. She only rolled her eyes again as George made kissy faces at her, which prompted Fred to start beating on him, only to be interrupted as a very unamused looking Snape smacked them both on the back of the head. Holding in her laughter, she whipped around to face Malcolm, not wanting to get Fred and George in any more trouble with Snape.

"Romantic," Leanne commented with an edge of sarcasm. "I take it you two have kissed and made up?"

"You could say that," Amelia said slyly with a wink, un-wadding the paper. "But a lady doesn't kiss and tell."

"Now you're a lady," Heidi said playfully. "I thought you hated that word."

Amelia merely rolled her eyes again as she read Fred's short note.

_Firewhiskey tomorrow night?_

Carefully, Amelia turned back around quickly, saw Snape had moved on, and shot Fred a thumbs-up and a wink. He winked back at her, and the exchange was over, and Amelia returned to face the Hufflepuffs with a familiar sense of a kind of excitement in the pit of her gut. However, this quickly faded as a great, and rather terrifying-looking black eagle owl swooped over the table, and nearly landed as it swiftly dropped a letter directly into Amelia's plate of eggs. Everyone around her was silent, as they watched her open her mail.

In a loopy, old-time kind of script, the letter said:

_You're a Hathorne. Act like one. Be proud._

_I'll be in touch._

_\- L.A.H._

Amelia could've thrown up, right then and there. She rose from the table in record speed.

"I've got to talk to my gran," she mumbled.

She sprinted from the Great Hall, Phoebe on her heels, and Fred not too far behind.


	45. Hathorne Family Prophecy

**Alright, well, apologies in advance. This may be a bit choppy. Some of you may think I introduced something too early. But I felt like I needed to, to make more sense of why Lucretius is back. He'll come to play a bigger part, so just wait it out, alright? Thanks. **

**And I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

* * *

Back at 12 Grimmauld Place, Zinnia was helping Mrs. Weasley clean up everyone's dishes from breakfast. The two were chatting idly as Celestina Warbeck played on the radio in the corner, while Mr. Weasley and Sirius were chatting in low voices at the table, still sipping their tea. The relatively peaceful scene was abruptly interrupted when a voice nearly screaming, "GRAN! GRAN!" came from the pocket of Zinnia's skirt.

The sound startled Mrs. Weasley so much that she dropped her wand into the sink of dirty dishes, much to her displeasure. The dropping of the wand, which was being used to control the sponge and the dishes, sent a teacup flying at the opposite wall, shattering immediately upon impact, which only seemed to perturb Mrs. Weasley even more. Zinnia continued to stumble to find what was making the noise, her hands fluttering around her pockets, until she finally pulled it out - her two-way mirror, the one that was connected to Amelia's.

"What in Merlin's beard are you screaming about, dear?" Zinnia said, answering the mirror as she ducked into the pantry while Mrs. Weasley repaired the broken teacup.

"Look, gran, just look what I just got in the post," Amelia panted.

With a trembling hand, Amelia lifted a scrap of parchment up to the mirror for Zinnia's inspection. She looked, and she saw the writing on it:

_You're a Hathorne. Act like one. Be proud._

_I'll be in touch._

_L.A.H._

Zinnia was silent, but Amelia noticed the expression on her grandmother's face change rapidly. In the Muggle world, the expression would've been, "she looked like she'd just seen a ghost," but that didn't even begin to cover the look Amelia saw on her grandmother's face. The expression didn't give her any kind of comfort, but rather, just scared her and worried her even more.

"Gran?" Amelia's voice trembled, barely above a whisper, as she cowered against the wall of the broom closet she'd snuck into. "It's….it's him, isn't it? It's….it's my….my grandfather…."

Knowing where Amelia was going to say, Zinnia frantically began to shake her head, as she, in her own kind of trembling, worried whisper, said, "No, no, no, darling, no. No, he's dead, he's been dead for fourteen years, no, darling."

Zinnia didn't want to believe it. Amelia didn't want to believe it. But what else could it be? Who else could it be? L.A.H. And Zinnia knew the handwriting.

L.A.H. Lucretius Aloysius Hathorne.

* * *

"Where the bloody hell did she run off to?" Fred grumbled, as he and Phoebe stalked the halls around the Great Hall. "What got her so upset anyway? If she didn't want to go out with me, she didn't have to say yes…."

"I don't think it was you," Phoebe replied, wide-eyed.

In Fred's opinion, her wide-eyes made her look like a moon calf or something of the sorts. It wasn't that she was ugly or anything, it was just that her unusually enormous eyes gave her a very particular look that Fred found rather eerie or at least a bit off-putting, even if it did so endear his brother.

"Then what was it?" Fred asked.

"She got some mail, from that strange black owl," Phoebe informed him. "I don't think she liked it too much. I didn't get to see what it said, but I'm guessing it wasn't good."

"Is something wrong with her gran?" Fred then inquired. He couldn't think of anyone else who could've sent Amelia unsettling news.

"Oh, I hope not," Phoebe chimed in, her face dropping. "That'd just be awful."

Without anything else to say or any sign of Amelia, the two stood there for a moment, in silence. After a moment, one of the rats Phoebe had on her person leapt from one of the pockets of the fuzzy orange garment that she was wearing, and that Fred couldn't decide if it was an enormous jumper or a slightly short dress. Either way, out the rat came, and Phoebe crouched down as the black and white rat that sniffed at the air. It scurried off just as fast as it had leapt out, and Phoebe stood back up and grinned at Fred.

"C'mon," she beckoned, scurrying off after the rat herself.

"Merlin," Fred groaned. "I'm following a girl who's following a rat. Just bloody great."

Fred followed Phoebe, who had followed the rat, to an old broom closet in a seldomly used corridor. The door was slightly ajar, and evidently Phoebe and the rat had already gone inside. After a deep breath, Fred ducked his head inside, and saw Amelia sitting on a wooden Chocolate Frog box, in the comfort of Phoebe's arms.

"What's wrong?" Fred questioned, bolting into the cramped closet space.

"Look," Amelia said, thrusting the scrap of parchment letter into his face. He did, he looked it over, and when he looked back at her for explanation, her eyes went dark as she said, "L.A.H. Lucretius A. Hathorne. My grandfather."

"I thought he was dead," Fred muttered, not knowing what else to say exactly. "Dad told me about how they found his body, said he'd been murdered by You-Know-Who himself."

"It was a hoax," Amelia replied, shaking her head. "It had to have been. I just talked to my gran on the two-way mirror….she said she knew the handwriting anywhere….and I told her about the owl, and she said that he always used a black great horned owl...she didn't want to believe it, but she didn't know how else to explain it, how else it'd be possible…."

"What does this mean, then?" Fred asked, kneeling before her as his eyes flickered over her face. "Your grandad's not dead, what's it mean?"

"Fred, don't you have any clue what the Hathornes - my family - is like?" Amelia pleaded, as she allowed him to take her hands. "They're maniacal pure-blood Death Eaters! Sure, my gran's like that, but I know what the rest of them are like, my grandad, my uncles….I've read about them, and I've seen them in Dumbledore's Pensieve, they're just as bad as everyone says….they killed the McKinnons and they're some of You-Know-Who's most trusted followers. And now….now my grandad has some kind of interest in me….what if he wants me to become a Death Eater, or something?"

Fred continued to look over Amelia's face, which was always so pretty, and still was, even though it was full of worry and possibly fear, and he tried to think of words to string together that he could say to her.

"I think you're getting a little worked up here, love," he finally told her, trying to sound as calming as possible. "Even if he's alive, what can he do? You're safe at Hogwarts, and outside, you've got your gran and the whole Order behind you. One old bloke isn't going to be able to get through all of them. You're gran's ancient, but she still kicks arse."

Even with all the worry, Amelia couldn't help but to laugh at that. That was why she loved Fred. Somehow, he managed to make her laugh, even in a situation like this one.

"Thanks," Amelia mumbled with a half-smile that nearly melted Fred's heart. To his surprise, she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. Still close to him, she said, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he replied. "You didn't have to end things just because you were upset about Cedric."

"That wasn't it," she said. Then, she revised, saying, "Well, alright, it was part of it. I was going through a lot, and I didn't think you needed me and all of my emotional baggage."

"I love you and all of your baggage," Fred joked. "Just because you were, or are, sad doesn't change that."

They were just about to kiss again, when Phoebe, who they'd nearly forgotten was there, broke in.

"I would appreciate it if you two didn't snog in front of me again," Phoebe requested. "I am still here, and this is a very small closet."

Awkwardly, Fred cleared his throat and backed away, having only been centimeters from kissing Amelia, who now ducked her head as an attempt to hide her flaring cheeks.

"Well, you're a brave one, Weasley," Amelia said after a moment. "Taking me on, family and baggage and all. Very brave."

"Well, us Gryffindors are known for our exceptional bravery," he winked. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand, and suggested, "Why don't we get out of the broom closet? As Phoebe said, it is very small in here."

"Sure," Amelia agreed.

The three of them made their exit, Fred and Amelia hand-in-hand with Phoebe a few feet behind them on their way back to the Great Hall. Even if she was happy with Fred, there was still the unshakable fear in the pit of her stomach from knowing that her grandfather was alive, and the fear she saw in her grandmother when she realized it as well.

* * *

A far way away in the English countryside, in an age-old gothic mansion, there was a meeting being held in a study. Only two men were present in the room, a room full of the finest literature the wizarding world had to offer, as well as the finest, most decadent decor, with views of the lush garden from each and every window. One man sat behind a great, deep mahogany desk, sitting back-to, while the other man, whose hazel eyes were hard as stone, sat comfortably on a crimson velvet sofa, casually flipping through a dragonskin bound book. An ebony great-horned owl dozed on the bird perch at his side, only just having returned from a rather long journey.

"You possess quite an interest in your granddaughter, my friend," came the cold, yet eerily high-pitched voice of the man behind the desk, as he swiveled around, revealing his snake-like and inhuman face - Lord Voldemort.

"Naturally," replied the man on the sofa - Lucretius Hathorne. "She is, after all, my heir. The last Hathorne. Half-blood, she may be, but, better than her useless Squib of a mother. I can't let my heir be a nasty blood traitor, can I, my lord?"

"No, I suppose not," mused Voldemort, stroking the snake around his neck with his spider-like fingers. "But do you have a plan, exactly? She's been living with your vile traitor of an ex-wife for some time now, don't you think she's already filled her head with ideas?"

"More than likely, yes," Lucretius nodded, stirring a bit uncomfortably in his seat. "But I've still got to try, my lord. I have to uphold the Hathorne name, after all."

"Of course, I understand," Voldemort replied. "I just didn't know if you were trying to get to her so that you could kill her. There is, after all, that nasty family prophecy of yours, hm, Lucretius? Remind me again of the correct phrasing, it seems to have escaped my mind."

Lucretius looked even more uncomfortable, as he said, "The last shall be the first."

"Ah, yes," nodded Voldemort, rising from his seat. "Yes, that's it. Interesting….you want her to uphold the family honor, rather than just killing her so that you maintain the family power? I would think you'd kill her, so that Cassius would be the one to fulfill the prophecy, to be the one to turn a new leaf in the history of the Hathornes."

"That is correct, my lord," Lucretius said, bowing his head.

"You can kill her later," Voldemort said dismissively. "But first, we must retrieve my prophecy, and kill Potter. Then you can kill as many of your descendants as you wish."


	46. Restricted Section

**So I have a terrible cold and feel awful, and this chapter would've been posted a lot sooner if I'd been feeling better, so I apologize. The next chapter will be a Christmas one, and possible the chapter after that will be about Christmas as well, because I really love Christmas. **

**And I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

* * *

"Umbridge is trying to get Hagrid sacked," Phoebe announced, as she plopped down beside Amelia by the fire in the Hufflepuff basement.

"And that's….supposed to be….news?" Amelia inquired, though she was engrossed in trying to finished her Potions paper on poison antidotes.

"Well, I suppose not," sighed Phoebe in response while crossing her arms. "She's been inspecting all his classes and taking 'notes.' Hermione said she did the same thing with the fifth years earlier. She probably doesn't even need that much evidence against him to get him sacked by her standards; she's really going the extra mile."

Having finished her last sentence, Amelia lifted her head, and replied, "You know - everyone knows - she's just a foul woman."

"True," sighed Phoebe once again. After brushing her even wilder hair than usual out of her face, she then asked, "Are you alright, or is the letter you received a couple of days ago still bothering you?"

"No," Amelia lied.

"You're lying," Phoebe said quickly. "You may be the best liar in the history of Hufflepuff, but you can't pull one over on me. I know you too well, and I'm far too intuitive. You typically spend a lot of time doing homework, but lately, you've been doing a disgusting amount of it."

"Just because you choose not to do your homework, doesn't mean that other people do the same thing," Amelia said, rather defensively.

"Amelia," Phoebe said, leaning in closer. "We haven't even started lessons on the homework you're doing. We don't start learning about poison antidotes for another couple of weeks. You asked Snape for advanced work, like you asked all the other professors. You do this, you know."

"Do what?" Amelia snapped.

"You get all worked up about things and push people away," Phoebe said. "Like….like when Cedric died. You kept to yourself and barely wrote anyone and broke things off with Fred and everything. And then you get engrossed in something, like this summer it was your internship at St. Mungo's, and now you're doing next month's homework."

Amelia sighed. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew that Phoebe was right. Ever since the letter arrived, she'd just been going to classes and coming straight back to the common room or dorms to do homework. She didn't even bother doing her Prefect rounds at night, but fortunately Herb had been kind enough to cover her route for her, especially since it gave him more time to sneak out and back with Leanne with an excuse. When Cedric died, she broke up with Fred, and barely replied to her friends' letters. She did have a habit of retreating into herself when she was upset.

"You're right," Amelia admitted finally, and quietly. "How do you always know me so well, Phoebe?"

"Intuition," Phoebe said, but she was back in her own little world, as she kissed one of her rats on its nose. After a slight cough, she added, "And, you've become much more predictable in your old age."

Amelia snorted with laughter. Only Phoebe would say something like that, when they were both only sixteen years old.

"Anyway," Phoebe picked up. "Have you heard or figured anything else out about your grandfather, or family in general?"

"Funny you ask," Amelia said, rising to her feet. "Come with me to the library. I wanna show you something."

* * *

The two girls arrived in the library, which was full of the more studious Hogwarts students cramming in some studying time before they had to retreat to their dorms for the night. Phoebe followed Amelia to one of the restricted sections, and looked at her blonde friend quizzically, wondering what hair-brained spell she'd invented to get in.

"Oh, don't worry, this is all by the rules," Amelia said with a wink. She pulled a scrap of paper bearing some writing and Professor Sprout's signature at the bottom, and added, "I was honest told Professor Sprout I wanted to do some family research. She signed and wrote the note, no other questions asked."

"Oh," Phoebe sighed. "I was kind of excited to see the kind of spell you'd use to get in."

With a shrug, Amelia replied, "Sorry to disappoint."

She proceeded to remove the rope, and usher Phoebe down the aisle, nearly to the very end, before she pulled one of the less menacing books from the shelf and laid it down on the table. The front, in very curly, very elaborate, and very green script, it said - _THE HATHORNE FAMILY: A HISTORY HELD IN HIGH ESTEEM._ Phoebe continued to watch as Amelia deftly flipped the book open to the introduction page, which in the same gaudy green script, said:

_"THE LAST SHALL BE THE FIRST; THE LAST SHALL CLOSE ONE CHAPTER AND OPEN ANOTHER, PUT TO REST ONE DAY TO BEGIN A NEW ONE. THE LAST HATHORNE SHALL BE THE FIRST OF A NEW REIGN."_

_\- HATHORNE FAMILY PROPHECY_

Phoebe stared down at the faded page of the old book, trying to decipher it all. She looked back up to Amelia, expressing that she didn't understand.

"Phoebe, I'm the last Hathorne," Amelia said. Less confidently, she added, "At least I think I am….I talked to my gran, and she said neither of my uncles had any children, or even got married. Doesn't that make me the last Hathorne?"

"Well….technically, you're a Honeycutt, not a Hathorne," Phoebe responded.

Rolling her eyes, Amelia said, "I don't think everything has to be that literal, Pheebs. But whatever the bloody hell this whole thing means, I don't think it's good….I mean, I'm not really one for prophecies, but the letter from my grandfather makes me think that he is. And if he wants me for some reason he's thought of because of the prophecy, it can't be anything good, can it?"

"What're you two doing in the restricted section?" came a familiar voice - Hermione.

"Research," Amelia replied quickly. It wasn't really a lie.

Hermione looked back at the two older Hufflepuff girls with some skepticism, but ultimately decided to shrug it off.

"Research?" came another voice. This time, it was George. "I doubt it."

"Yeah, research my arse," Fred chimed in, stepping up behind his brother and Hermione. "Unless, of course, you're doing some pranking research….but it must be something awfully good or awfully dark if you're in the restricted section."

"You have very little faith in me," Amelia said with a shadow of a smirk. "We are actually doing research, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with pranking or any kind of mischief making."

"Whatever you say, love," Fred smirked back at her. "But, have you made any progress on new pranks or products?"

"I'm not answering that," Amelia replied playfully. "I was going to save that for Christmas."

"Christmas," Phoebe interjected, her eyes widening. "I'd nearly forgotten about Christmas."


	47. Mistletoe

**So, I know updates aren't as frequent as they used to be, but I'm hoping this helps me to give you guys more quality content, rather than just quantity. I hope to have AT LEAST one more chapter posted by Christmas, if not, two more. And, Happy Hanukkah :)**

**And I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

* * *

December soon rolled in, and with it, much more snow, and much more restlessness from students anxiously awaiting their Christmas holiday. For sixth years like Amelia, however, the workload did not slow down or decrease any, especially with all the N.E.W.T. level classes she had in her schedule. Potions, in particular, seemed to be getting to her lately, because ever since Snape had heard about her St. Mungo's internship the previous summer and had heard other professors "raving" about her, as he had put it, he'd gotten particularly picky about what he'd accept from her.

With the latest set of lessons being on poison antidotes and medical potions, Snape had gotten ever more particular. They'd been brewing the Blood-Replenishing Potion, and Snape had only bothered to walk past her cauldron before vanishing her potion and telling her to begin again. When she angrily asked why, he told her, "If you are to be a Healer, I expect only the finest from you, particularly in healing-related potions. The potion I just observed is of so low quality that I," he paused here, to glare at Phoebe who sat behind her, and finished, "would not even use on a common rat."

Despite Snape's sour mood, Amelia wasn't too upset. She loved Christmas and Christmas Time, and now that she had her gran to go home to during the holiday, she only got more excited. The snow was beautiful outside, the fire in the common room seemed even warmer, her bed seemed cosier, the food seemed better, and the castle was buzzing with the spirits of the holiday. Malcolm Preece had even managed to smuggle special holiday mead in, and as always, was willing to share, making an interesting few games of Exploding Snap for the older Hufflepuffs.

Being a Prefect, Amelia had the responsibility of watching over the younger students to supervise them as they put up decorations around the castle, which she didn't mind so much. On the couple days that this took, she usually delegated her duties to Phoebe, who got along better with the younger kids anyway, so that she could sneak off for a brief snog with Fred in whatever broom closet happened to be close by and unoccupied.

Along with the impending Christmas break, came the last D.A. meeting until the new year. In the spirit of the holiday, Amelia donned a bright red jumper adorned with green mistletoes to wear to the meeting. As she had been lately, she felt particularly giddy. Maybe it was the upcoming holiday, maybe it was because things were going so well with Fred now that they had gotten back together, maybe both, but either way, she didn't really care about the reasons for once. She was just happy to be happy in the moment, even if her family and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lurked in the shadows of her mind.

Sighing, Amelia hastily attempted to pull her hair back into a ponytail before sprinting off to the D.A. meeting. Having no luck, she sighed once again, and decided to just leave it as it was. She was just about to leave her dorm when she made one last glance over the her bed and trunk, when she happened to make eye contact with the photo of Cedric she had tacked over her bed, amongst all the regular posters of Muggle bands. For a moment, her mind played a trick on her, and she thought she was actually looking at Cedric, not a picture of him, and that he wasn't really dead, but instead just standing by her bed.

Just as soon as her mind had played the trick on her, her mind corrected herself, and she realized that she was simply staring at the picture of Cedric that had been in the Prophet over a year ago when the Triwizard Champions were announced. It seemed like it was yesterday, and a lifetime ago all at the same time.

Since school had started, Amelia hadn't thought about Cedric as much as she had over summer holiday. Now realizing that, she felt guilty, extremely guilty. Cedric had been her best friend for five years, had let her come to his house for holiday when she had nowhere else to go but a little foster home, whose parents had really come to treat her like part of a family, and who had introduced her to a few of her now good friends, like Leanne and Herb. How could she be so cruel? He'd been her best friend, such a big part of her life, and in the past few months she'd barely given him a thought like he deserved. He was one of the best people she'd known, and he was six feet under while she was happy and smiley and readying herself for Christmas with her friends, boyfriend, and grandmother. Some part of her wished she could trade places with him.

"'Melia, we're going to be late!" called Phoebe from the other side of the door, immediately bringing Amelia back to reality.

"Oh….alright, I'm coming!" Amelia replied in a distant voice.

Hesitantly, she reached out, and with a gentle finger, traced the edge of Cedric's picture. She remembered why she was in the D.A., and why she was going to be a part of the Order as soon as her gran permitted her.

After she'd stepped out of the dorms to meet Phoebe, the two met up with Leanne and Herb, and exited the common room. From there, they split up, as they usually did, so that they avoided some suspicion. Phoebe and Amelia went one way, Herb and Leanne the other. It didn't take them very long for the two girls to arrive at the Room of Requirement, which had been decorated for the holiday. A myriad of gold-colored baubles dangled from the ceiling, each of which had a portrait of Harry and the words "HAVE A VERY CHRISTMAS" written beneath. Amelia chuckled, wondering where in Merlin's beard they could've come from, and just how embarrassed Harry was about them.

"Hey, Harry, where'd all these come from?" Amelia inquired with a smirk, as she gestured up at the ceiling decor.

"Dobby," Harry answered, seeming rather annoyed.

"Dobby?" Amelia repeated.

"House-elf," Harry informed her. "We're friends, in a way, I guess….he goes a bit overboard sometimes…."

Katie, Angelina and Alicia were the next to arrive, looking very cold and very out of breath.

"Well," said Angelina dully, pulling off her cloak and throwing it into a corner. She looked Harry dead in the eye as she told him, "We've replaced you."

"Replaced me?" said Harry blankly.

"You and Fred and George," she said impatiently. "We've got another Seeker!"

"Who?" said Harry quickly.

"Ginny Weasley," said Katie.

Harry gaped at her.

"Yeah, I know," said Angelina, pulling out her wand and flexing her arm. "But she's pretty good, actually. Nothing on you, of course," she said, throwing him a very dirty look, "But as we can't have you . . ."

"And what about the Beaters?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Andrew Kirke," said Alicia without enthusiasm. Amelia knew him, he was one of the boys in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "And Jack Sloper. Neither of them are brilliant, but compared with the rest of the idiots who turned up . . ."

The arrival of Ron, Hermione, and Neville distracted Harry and brought this depressing discussion to an end, leaving Amelia, Katie, Phoebe, Angelina and Alicia to talk amongst themselves. The room became full enough to begin the meeting within a few short minutes, just as Leanne, Herb, Fred, George and Lee arrived.

"Okay," Harry said, calling them all to order. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break —"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. Amelia snapped her head around, staring at the boy with an annoyed expression. Just because they were in the same house didn't mean that she didn't find him extremely irritating. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come. . . ."

Before she could utter another, "Can it, Smith," it was Fred who spoke up.

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly, sneaking an arm around her waist.

Several people sniggered, including Amelia, as she looked up at him, to have him wink down back at her.

"We can practice in pairs," continued Harry. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

Everyone divided up rather quickly. Phoebe left George for Luna, who found herself without a partner, so George paired off with Lee, Leanne with Herb, which predictably left Amelia with Fred. At first, the two just kind of looked at each other, evidently too nervous to do anything, as all the other sets of partners got busy temporarily paralyzing each other. This time, it was Amelia who spoke up.

"I'm not going to go easy on you, Weasley," Amelia said with a smirk, readying her wand.

"I wouldn't want you to, Honeycutt," Fred winked in response.

"One," Amelia said, beginning the countdown.

"Two," Fred continued, his smile widening.

"Three!" they both exclaimed.

"_Impedimenta_!" Fred enchanted, while Amelia did her spell nonverbally, as she preferred to.

They both managed to freeze each other successfully, and consequently unfreeze with a great deal of laughter accompanying the action. The two continued like this until Harry came over to tap Amelia on the shoulder, to ask her if she'd walk around the room to check on everyone's progress with him.

"Er, Harry, do you really think you need me?" she inquired in a low voice. "I mean, you're perfectly capable…."

"Well, you're so good with spells," he argued. "Better than Hermione, probably. I mean, I don't know…."

After a glance at Cho that gave Amelia no reassurance about the resolution of their friendship, Amelia replied, "Go on without me. Everyone knows you and trusts you more. You've fought You-Know-Who, after all."

"Alright," Harry agreed, knowing when to quit.

Once he'd inspected everyone's handy work with the Impediment Jinx, he decided it was time to pull the cushions out for Stunning. There weren't enough cushions or space in the room for everyone to practice all at once, so they split up in two groups, one watching, one practicing. Amelia was happy to see that Phoebe had made progress with Stunning, something she'd found a bit tricky before, as she managed to stun George properly. Even Neville was having some luck, though his spells kept hitting one of the Patil twins instead of Dean Thomas, which was who he was aiming at, but even so, Amelia was happy to see him getting the knack of it.

After around an hour, Harry called the meeting to an end.

"You're getting really good," Harry beamed, his eyes flashing around the room from behind his glasses. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff - maybe even Patronuses. Amelia could help with that, right?"

"Er, sure," she said lowly, even though she knew nobody had really listened. The large murmur of excitement had swelled over the room as soon as the word 'Patronuses' had slipped from Harry's mouth.

As was typical, the room started clearing out gradually, as some stayed behind to put away the cushions and wish each other a Happy Christmas. Amelia was one of those people, and waited around putting away cushions, as did Fred, but she was sure he would've gone with Lee, George and Phoebe if it wasn't for her. She made sure Harry was all set before leaving him alone, with only Cho left in the room. She knew he probably still fancied her, so she knew when it was time for her to head out.

That left her and Fred to their own devices. He smirked at her while reaching for her hand as they walked out of the room, and with a sly grin, she pulled her hand away just in time.

"Oh, playing hard-to-get tonight, are we?" he inquired with a playful kind of interest.

"No," she replied, though the glint in her eyes indicated differently. "I just don't feel like it. We never really just get to talk, I mean…."

"Is something wrong?" Fred then asked. "You've been in such a good mood lately, that can't last forever."

"Well," Amelia said, taking a deep breath. She knew she needed to become more trusting and actually talk to Fred if she wanted this to work, so, she took a leap of faith and said, "I don't know, with Christmas and all….I've just been thinking about Cedric a lot lately."

"Oh," Fred mumbled in response, after his expression had noticeably dropped. "You….you really miss him, don't you?"

"Yeah," nodded Amelia, who thought that fact would've been more obvious. "I….imagine if George died, how you'd feel. It's like that - we were like siblings, for the most part…."

"Siblings," Fred mused. "Just….that?"

"Of course," she verified. "Friends. He was the first person I ever met at Hogwarts."

"Wow," Fred said lowly, after what seemed like a long silence. "I couldn't….I can't even imagine what it'd be like without George, it must be bloody hell for you without Cedric….and to think, last year, I was so worried you'd pick him over me."

Amelia raised an eyebrow as she questioned, "Why?"

"Why?" Fred snorted. "Because he was the handsomest bloke Hogwarts had seen in centuries, he aced his courses, he was a Captain and Seeker, Prefect, I don't think he had a mean bone in his body…."

"He wasn't perfect, Fred," Amelia interrupted. "Far from. I love him, but he wasn't perfect, and I don't love him like _that_."

"Like what?" Fred prodded, clearly trying to get a certain answer from her.

"Like I love you, you stupid, obnoxious, cocky Gryffindor," she laughed, punching him in the chest. This gave him the opportunity to lasso her in by the waist, despite her playful resistance.

"Music to my ears," he winked. "And, on one unrelated note, you look absolutely adorable in your Christmas jumper. On another unrelated note, do you have any idea what's with George and Phoebe?"

With a slight sigh, Amelia shook her head and shrugged her shoulders slightly, and answered, "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Ah," Fred muttered, accepting the answer. "He's just been a bit….out of it? I don't know, she's alright and all, but he's so infatuated with her that he can't focus on his work half the time."

"Work?" inquired Amelia skeptically. She knew the two of them better than that.

"With our joke stuff, I mean," Fred supplied, seeing her skepticism. "He added the wrong ingredient to one of the candies, and I'm fairly sure that if he didn't spit it out when he did, his head would've exploded….speaking of, have you had any more of your brilliant ideas?"

"No," she shrugged. "I haven't….really had that sort of stuff on my mind lately, with the DA and family and keeping my grades up for St. Mungo's…."

"Oh," he replied. "I understand. Well….if you ever have a stroke of genius in the joke department, you'll let me know, right?"

"You'll be the first to know," she assured him playfully.

"And if you need anyone else…."

"I know," she nodded honestly and meekly, looking up into his eyes. "I know."

Fred smiled down at her, and nodded himself, before his smile turned into more of a smirk, as he inquired, "Do you know we're standing under mistletoe?"

Amelia glanced upward, and noticed he was right.

"You planned that," she accused with a light grin.

"Pure luck," he winked. "I promise."

And with that, she kissed him. She never thought that she'd be the girl with the boyfriend that she actually believed that she was in love with, but she was, and she accepted it now. Even with all her feelings about Cedric and her family, kissing Fred took that all away, just being with him took that all away, even if it was for just a moment. She'd come to accept it - she did indeed love Fred Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley!" came a sharp, unmistakable voice interrupting them - Professor McGonagall.

Immediately, Fred and Amelia stopped kissing, though, subconsciously, they left their arms around each other. They stared at a wide-eyed McGonagall, like "deer caught in headlights," as Muggles would say. Behind McGonagall were George and Ginny, both of whom looked just as disheveled and worried as the professor.

"Mr. Weasley, you need to come with me to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately," McGonagall instructed. "Miss Honeycutt, you might as well come along."


	48. One Long Night

**So, Happy Christmas Eve! I wish this was the Christmas chapter, but unfortunately, it is not. I hope you all can understand that I've been busy with the holidays, and honestly wish I could have it up tonight for you guys, but that's not how it worked out. I PROMISE THAT I WILL HAVE THE CHRISTMAS CHAPTER UP BEFORE I GO BACK TO SCHOOL! I love you guys and thank you for the patience! Now, for my usual message of thanks...**

**And I know I say this all the time, but I truly appreciate all the support you guys have shown me. It means the world to me, to know that you guys are enjoying what I write, and seeing your support helps me keep writing. Reviews really mean a lot, and I know everyone says that, but they do. Your reviews never fail to bring a smile to my face, so don't be afraid to drop one off, with a comment, question, or prediction. It's all welcome and I'd be happy to hear any of it from any of you :-)**

**Merry Christmas, Happy (late) Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa! Happy whatever other holidays you may celebrate that slipped my mind!**

* * *

"What's going on?" Fred inquired under his breath, as he, Amelia, George and Ginny rushed to keep up with McGonagall.

"No idea," George replied in an honest, hurried whisper. "McGonagall burst into the dorms, woke us up, and told us to go with her to see Dumbledore. Whatever it is, I don't reckon it's good, mate."

"Well it can't be something we did," Fred commented. "She wouldn't have dragged Ginny along if it was just our faults."

"Of course not," Ginny chimed in. In a lower tone, she added, "I bet it's something with the Order - I don't think she'd let Amelia come along if it wasn't, because the Order concerns her as well."

"It's your father," McGonagall said, halting in the hallway. Her tone and expression were grave. Amelia knew she meant Mr. Weasley - who was not her father, of course - but nonetheless, she felt her heart start to race. "Harry Potter has seen a vision in which he has been gravely injured, and Professor Dumbledore wishes to inform you all of this."

All three of the Weasley children immediately looked full of fear and panic, understandably so, and Amelia did too, even if she wasn't directly involved. She felt Fred's grip on her hand tighten. She'd forgotten he'd even had a grip on her hand until that moment, and now she thought he was well on his way to breaking her fingers.

On another note, she felt Phoebe's gift to her - the heart compass - suddenly warm against her chest, from where it was tucked beneath her sweater. At any other moment, she would've looked into the cause, but now was not the time.

"Um. Professor McGonagall, I don't mean to be rude, but why….why am I here?" Amelia inquired in a mousy voice.

"I don't think your grandmother would mind having you home early," McGonagall replied curtly. "Now, come along."

No more words were uttered, but the four students instead quietly and worriedly followed McGonagall to Dumbledore's office. She was going so fast that Amelia didn't even understand the password she uttered to the gargoyles guarding the office, if she even did that at all.

Inside of the office, Amelia found Dumbledore pacing behind his desk, and Ron and Harry off to the side, looking very disheveled and frightened in their night clothes.

"Harry — what's going on?" asked Ginny, breathlessly. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt —"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How're we going?" asked Fred. Amelia hadn't thought it was possible, but he started squeezing her hand even tighter. "Floo powder?"

"No," said Dumbledore, "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back. . . . I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you —"

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds. . . . Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story —"

Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.

"He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore. A wizard called Phineas Nigellus had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner in a portrait on the wall. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests. . . ."

"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry, Amelia and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ."

They gathered around Dumbledore's desk, except Amelia, who lingered back, though Fred tugged at her hand.

"Professor, I shouldn't….I really shouldn't be here," she mumbled, not knowing how else to explain how she was feeling.

"Indeed, I don't know why you are here," Dumbledore replied. "But, now that you are, I have made the choice to send you along as well - I suspect Zinnia would like to have you home. She's been getting rather irritated with Sirius as of late."

Amelia opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't put the proper words together, so before she knew it, her chance to speak had been lost.

"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. Though Amelia shook her head no, Dumbledore didn't notice. George did, and rushed to place her hand on the kettle for her. "Good. On the count of three then . . . one . . . two . . ."

From there, it happened all very quickly. The sensation reminded Amelia of the sensation she felt falling into the Pensieve last year. It was nauseating, and she didn't like it one bit, but just as suddenly, she felt her feet hit the ground with tremendous force. Amelia didn't even have to open her eyes to know they'd reached 12 Grimmauld Place, the voices from the paintings informed her of that.

"Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying . . . ?"

"OUT!" roared a second voice.

On either side of her, George and Ron helped Amelia stand. Fred seemed far too anxious, though he hadn't released her hand. Upon opening her eyes, she recognized the kitchen she was in, the one she had spent most of the summer in. Kreacher, the creepy resident house elf appeared in the doorway, looking curious in a malevolent way, as he hitched up his loincloth. Sirius was hurrying toward them all, looking anxious as he shoved past Kreacher. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slight whiff of stale drink about him.

"What's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured —"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.

Everyone except Ron was staring at him.

"It was —" Harry began. "I had a — a kind of — vision. . . .it was in a dream….I saw this snake, this great, big snake….it….your dad was there, and the snake….well….it attacked him, and it….it looked awful, just awful…."

When Harry had finished explaining, Fred, George and Ginny stared at him. Amelia did too, but in a different way. The Weasleys all looked frightened, and rather….almost….accusatory in their looks, while Amelia was just trying to figure out the whole situation, to put the puzzle together.

"Oh, you've all made it here safely!" exclaimed Zinnia, entering the room. She was hurrying to tie her housecoat over her nightgown, and her hair was tied in a gray, fraying braid. Amelia guessed she'd rushed out of bed.

"Thank Merlin," Zinnia added, as she bounced around the room, giving all the kids a brief hug.

She gave her granddaughter an extra special and long hug, which Amelia savored. She didn't even realize how much she'd missed her grandmother, and when she did, she sank deeper into her arms. For some reason, she found herself almost choking back tears, but she managed to restrain herself, and pulled away slightly, though Zinnia kept her arms around her granddaughter's shoulders.

"Is Mum here?" Fred asked, turning to Zinnia.

"No, dear," Zinnia replied.

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," Sirius said. "The important thing was to get you away from Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers, who were in their pajamas, except for Fred. "Sirius, could you lend us cloaks or anything….?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" said Sirius.

"Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," Fred countered. "He's our dad!"

"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?" questioned Sirius, clearly trying to deter them.

"What does that matter?" asked George hotly.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" exclaimed Sirius angrily. Amelia felt her grandmother's grip around her tighten. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

Fred and George didn't look like they gave a damn. Ron was still pale. It was Ginny who spoke up, saying, "Somebody else could've told us….we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry…."

"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened…."

"Sirius," Zinnia interrupted, in a surprisingly serene kind of voice. "They're just worried about their father, try to have a bit of sympathy and patience, won't you?"

"This isn't the time for patience, Zinnia," Sirius continued. "They could seriously damage the Order's -"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted Fred, going into a rage, just as George appeared to be.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" yelled George.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing up things for the Order!" hollered Sirius, obviously still quite angry. "This is how it is - this is why you're not in the Order - you don't understand - there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

Amelia's eyes widened as they bounced between Sirius and Fred, and for a good moment, Amelia honestly thought she was about to witness a fist fight between the two of them.

"Fred," she mumbled in a voice that was barely audible. "You don't mean…."

"No, Amelia, it's quite alright," Sirius said, clearing his throat so his voice sounded like it was straining to remain calm. He looked back to the Weasleys, in particular, Fred, and said, "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, alright?"

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and they sat down too. Fred and George glared at Sirius for another minute, and then took seats on either side of Ginny. Fred glanced up at Amelia, who was still standing with her grandmother, and oddly enough, Amelia found herself unable to decipher whatever message he was trying to throw in her direction.

"Alright," Zinnia said, moving Amelia a few steps forward with her. "I realize we are all very worried right now, and that's clearly understandable, but while we wait to hear from your mother, why don't we have a nice drink and try to screw our heads back on, hm?"

"That's right," nodded Sirius in encouraging agreement. "Come on, let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer!"

As Sirius summoned bottles of Butterbeer from the pantry, Zinnia gave him a disappointed kind of look.

"I meant tea, Sirius," she said. "It's much too late for these children to be having butterbeer of all things….but, what's done is done…."

No one spoke another word, but instead, settled around the room, nervously sipping or fiddling with their butterbeer, awaiting on any kind of news on Mr. Weasley. Amelia allowed her grandmother to place her in the seat beside Fred and across from Harry, who Amelia noticed looked strangely guilty and just as, if not more, worried than the actual Weasley children. Nervously, Harry spilt his butterbeer across the table, which only Amelia seemed to notice, until Zinnia wiped it up with a spare rag. Then, a burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of them and as they gave cries of shock, a scroll of parchment fell with a thud onto the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.

"Fawkes!" said Sirius at once, snatching up the parchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must be a message from your mother — here —"

He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud, "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."

George looked around the table.

"Still alive . . ." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound . . ."

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded as though Mr. Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, and over to Amelia. He reached for her hand once again, and she allowed him to take it. She did the only thing she could think of - give him a slight smile, just to let him know she was there for him, but he didn't seem to notice.

Internally, Amelia sighed. She felt horrible for all of the Weasleys right now, but she had no idea what they could be feeling. She'd never even met her father, let alone worried about him dying in St. Mungo's. Worried and upset as she was, she just couldn't relate. She couldn't.

The hours passed. It was one of the longest nights Amelia remembered, and eventually, she couldn't help but to doze off. She woke sometime later before the night was over, and found Fred snoring away on her shoulder, their hands still intertwined. Glancing down at him, Amelia ran her fingers through his red hair, and pressed a light kiss to the top of his head before surveying the rest of the room. Ginny was curled like a cat in her chair, her eyes wide open, staring off into the distance. Amelia couldn't tell if Ron was asleep or not. George was dozing in his seat next to Fred, struggling to keep his eyes open, while Sirius fell in and out of sleep at the head of the table. Zinnia tiptoed around the room, wrapping everyone up in blankets.

And then, at ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, Fred, Ron, and Harry half-rising from their chairs, she gave a wan smile. "He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother, and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his butterbeer in one.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"

But Kreacher did not answer the summons.

"Don't bother Kreacher, I'll make breakfast," Zinnia said quickly. Hurrying to the stove, she mused, "Let's see….eggs, bacon, tea, toast…."

"I'll help you, Gran," Amelia said, not wanting to intrude on the Weasleys. Zinnia smiled in thanks, and handed Amelia the tea kettle to put over the fire.

"I will too," Sirius nodded.

Harry hurried over to the stove to help as well. He had barely taken plates from the dresser when Mrs. Weasley lifted them out of his hands and pulled him into a hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry," she said in a muffled voice. "They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis. . . ."

She soon released him to turn to Sirius and Zinnia and thank them for looking after her children through the night. They said that they was very pleased to have been able to help, and Sirius added that he hoped they would all stay with him as long as Mr. Weasley was in hospital.

"Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful. . . . They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer . . . Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas. . . ."

"The more the merrier!" said Sirius with such obvious sincerity that Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, threw on an apron, and began to help with breakfast.

"Sirius," Harry muttered, unable to stand it a moment longer. "Can I have a quick word? Er — now?"

He walked into the dark pantry and Sirius followed. Amelia watched them go, then looked to Zinnia, who shrugged. The two came out a few minutes later, and Amelia had forgotten they'd ever went into the pantry, as she helped her gran and Mrs. Weasley pass out plates of food and cups of tea. Though tired, everyone seemed to gulp down their food, and decided to retreat to the rooms they had occupied during the summer for some much needed sleep.

After treading up the stairs, Amelia found her hand on the door handle to the room she'd spent the summer in, and before twisting it to open it, she changed her mind, and after checking her surroundings, dashed off down the hall to Fred and George's room. She knocked, and it was George who let her in, yawning as he did so.

"Are you two alright?" Amelia asked. She first hugged George, and then Fred, who held onto her a bit longer.

"Yeah, we're fine," George replied. "Just glad that Dad's alive and alright right now."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Amelia then said, trying to be encouraging.

Releasing her from his grip, Fred cut her off, and rather defensively, inquired, "How do you know?"

"Well, I mean, it won't be an easy recovery, but St. Mungo's is one of the best, and they've treated much worse cases than a snakebite," Amelia reasoned.

"So what happened to Dad isn't bad?" countered Fred.

Sensing his brother's hostility, George turned to Amelia and said, "He's just tired, 'Melia."

"No, that's not it," Fred piped up. "Do you hear her, George? She's talking like Dad's just fine and dandy!"

"I know he's not," Amelia said. "But I feel that he - …."

Again cutting her off, Fred said, "No, you don't. You don't feel anything because you don't know what it feels like going through a night not knowing whether or not your dad'll survive!"

Amelia felt her blood boil, and set her jar hard, staring at Fred just as angrily as he stared at her. She couldn't believe he was getting this angry at her when she hadn't done a thing.

"No, you're right," she said in a voice that was calm purposely to irritate him. "I don't know what that feels like. I don't even know what it feels like to have a dad, or a mum, for that matter. You're absolutely right. I lived 15 years of my life with no family, so I can't relate at all."

"Amelia," Fred replied after an eternity of silence, and after he'd realized what he'd said.

"Forget it," she muttered jerking away as he reached for her shoulder. Just before she disappeared out the door, she said, "Whatever you want to think, think it, but know that I'm glad you're dad's still here and I hope he makes a fast recovery."

She nearly slammed the door as she left to go back to her own room, and had one thought: since her grandmother still hadn't introduced her to her parents, she'd have to do it herself.


	49. Through the Window

**WOW! It's been nearly 3 months since I've posted this fic, and I'm so sorry. A lot has been going on, and I've been through a long dry spell with this fic, but I'm back! Sorry for not posting when promised...but here's more and there's more on the way!**

**As always, I have to thank all of you lovely people for all the support you've shown me! Please don't be afraid to like, follow, review or PM me because it honestly always does brighten my day and means a lot to me :-) You guys keep me writing!**

**Also...can I be a bit greedy and ask to get this to at least 100 reviews? Please...? :-)**

**That's it from me, so, enjoy! :-)**

* * *

Amelia woke up unnaturally early the next morning. It was alright, she hadn't sleep the night before anyway, so she thought she might as well get up. She was showered, dressed and ready to go, all before the sun was up. She sat on her bed, deep in thought. She waited until what she thought was a decent hour, and she stood, gathering her guts.

In her own bedroom, Zinnia was sleeping as peacefully as was possible after the night she'd just experienced. Her mouth was open in a very unladylike way that would've embarrassed her if she had known that was the face she had made while sleeping. She was in the middle of a dream about picking peonies in the garden adjacent to her childhood home, when she was awoken in a very unpleasant manner.

"GRAN!" hollered a painfully loud Amelia, as she attempted to shake her grandmother awake. "_GRAN_!"

"Merlin, what on earth is going on?!" Zinnia hollered. She jumped to a sitting up position quickly, startled, and pulled her blankets over herself to cover her nightgown. "What are you shouting for, darling?"

"Gran, I need to meet my parents," Amelia blurted. She was pacing like mad by Zinnia's bedside. "You said you'd take me to meet them months ago, but I just can't wait anymore. Please, Gran, please, I have to meet them."

Zinnia stared at her granddaughter with a bittersweet kind of smile, and released a sigh.

"Come here, darling, come here," sighed Zinnia once again. She held her arms open for her granddaughter, but Amelia didn't budge. Seeing that she wouldn't budge, Zinnia continued, "Amelia, it's much more complicated than you think it is, you can't just go running to them, you know."

"Well, explain it to me, then!" Amelia exclaimed, feeling her emotions getting more and more erratic.

"Come here, then, won't you?" Zinnia pleaded, smoothing out a spot for her on the bed.

This time, Amelia obliged, letting out a rather haughty sigh as she sat on the bed near her grandmother. She felt her chest heavy with breath, her nerves on fire.

There was a long moment of silence, during which Amelia watched Zinnia collect herself and draw a long breath, before she finally said, "Amelia, your parents don't remember you, darling. They have no idea that you exist."

Amelia suddenly felt as if she'd fallen a hundred feet off a broomstick. The air was knocked out of her, and her mind was reeling - how was it that her parents forgot about her? Did they really not care about her that much, when they looked so, so happy to have her in the photograph in the locket? It didn't make sense, how could they….how could they just forget about her, like trash that'd be thrown away?

Zinnia laid a hand on her shoulder, and continued, "It's not that they wanted to, dear, you've got to understand that. They didn't want to forget about you at all. They didn't want to give you over to Mrs. Fairfax at the children's home, either. They wanted you more than anything. They loved you very much…."

"Then why have they just forgotten about me, then?!" Amelia burst, her voice loud enough to wake the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place. "How have they just forgotten about me like a piece of trash they threw away sixteen years ago?!"

"They didn't," Zinnia said, shaking her head. "They had to - I had to modify their memories."

Amelia felt her eyes grow about ten sizes in her head. She couldn't do anything but stare at her grandmother, dumbfounded.

"What….why?"

"You have to understand, Amelia," Zinnia said. "It was for everyone's protection. There's an old Hathorne family prophecy that could very easily put you and your mother in grave danger….I modified her memory to forget about you and her life in the wizarding world, and did the same for your father. It was for the best, for everyone. If Lucretius - your grandfather, that is - found out that Callie had a child….you'd be in grave danger, especially since you inherited magical abilities. He knows where she is, of course, and if you were there, he'd find you and kill you like that."

She paused, snapping her fingers for dramatic effect.

"So I modified her memory," Zinnia continued. "And I gave you to Mrs. Fairfax so you could be hidden and protected. I knew you had magic since you were born, when you laughed as a baby, flowers bloomed. When you cried….well, the flowers shriveled up and died. If Lucretius had found you, Amelia, you'd be dead. I had to modify your parents' memories so they wouldn't accidentally reveal your location to Lucretius, if the opportunity ever presented itself. Your parents didn't want to forget you, darling, they only did it to protect you…."

Amelia was quiet. She was processing what her grandmother had just told her. Her parents didn't want to forget her. They had to forget her, for all of their collective safeties. They loved her. They forgot her because they loved her.

She popped up from the bed very suddenly, and bolted for the door.

"Where are you going?" Zinnia asked, concerned, as she rose herself.

"Out," Amelia muttered vaguely. "I just….I just need some air…."

"You can't just go _out_, darling," Zinnia argued. "Not alone, anyway, it's…."

"I'll just go back to my room, then," Amelia shrugged off. "Open my window, for some air."

"That's fine," Zinnia concluded, though she was still side-eyeing her granddaughter. "Just….I'm trusting that's all you'll do."

"Hufflepuff's honor," Amelia said, raising a hand.

Too bad Zinnia didn't see Amelia's fingers cross behind her back.

* * *

Once in her room, Amelia snatched up her old fleece-lined denim jacket and slipped it on over her baby blue jumper. She slipped her Hufflepuff black and yellow hat on and the scarf as well, and after her boots were good and tied, she checked the hallway - empty. She could hear snores from Harry and Ron's room that she knew as Ron's, so she assumed the coast was clear.

Being as quiet and careful as ever, she tiptoed down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Still, the coast was clear. She let out a sigh of relief - from here, if she got out, she was free and set to go.

"Up a bit early, aren't you, Amelia?" came a voice from behind her, that startled her nearly out of her boots.

Jumping around, she saw Sirius, in the same clothing she'd last seen him in, and a cup of tea in hand, as he made his entrance into the kitchen from the shadows of the next room.

"Er, yeah," Amelia muttered. "Couldn't sleep."

"So you're deciding to go for an early morning stroll?" he presumed, eyeing her coat, hat and scarf.

"Yeah, to clear my head," she nodded.

"Well, on you go then," Sirius replied with a slight sigh.

She turned, drawing a breath, hoping that Sirius was just shrugging her off, but was stopped in her tracks again just as she'd reached the door.

"Amelia, wait," Sirius called, causing her to turn around to face him nervously once again. "You shouldn't go off without this."

She watched as he pulled a slip of folded parchment from one of his pockets, holding it out to her as an offering. She only stared, unable to figure out why he was giving her something and what it could possibly be.

"What's….?" she asked, unable to finish her question.

"Your parent's address," Sirius smirked. "I could hear you upstairs. Thin walls, in some places, y'know. I figured I'd help you out."

Finally accepting the parchment, she muttered, "Thanks, but how did you….?"

"Went through your grandmother's address book," Sirius shrugged, as if it was nothing. "She has a habit of leaving things out rather than putting them away. Interesting, for how clean she likes things."

"Thank you," she repeated, unable to think of anything else to say to describe her gratitude. "Thank you, so much."

"Not a problem," Sirius shrugged. "Now, get going before your grandmother comes down here."

She took his advice, and she left. She was out in London, in the cold December air, and she was looking for the address that Sirius has given her. Her stomach was in knots. She was nervous and scared, but at the same time, she never recalled feeling the kind of excitement she was currently feeling ever before in her life.

Then she found it. The same address on her scrap of parchment. She was there, and inside, were her parents. Her parents. Her family. Right in there.

She just stood there on the sidewalk, still as a statue, facing the little home. People passed her and accidently walked into her and kept along with their business, as she simply stood and stared at the house. After inspecting her surroundings a bit more, she slipped into the little alleyway between their house and the next, so she could peek into the window and not be noticed. The window looked into the kitchen.

Her mother was the first to come. She came in the room, and flipped the pancakes on the stove. She turned the TV on the counter, onto the cartoon channel. Little kids' cartoons, for sure.

Amelia couldn't believe it. For the first time she could remember, she was seeing her mother. She looked almost the same as she did in the photograph, the kind, pretty face, the wide, kind brown eyes, and the soft honey-colored curls that she'd hastily tugged into a ponytail at the base of her neck. Amelia saw so much of herself in her mum - the hair, the figure, the softened features. It was like looking at herself in twenty years or so, minus the eye color. It was strange, but unbelievably amazing. It was _her mother. Her mother_.

Next into the room was her father. She knew it, she had his eyes. Since the photograph had been taken sixteen or so years ago, he'd chopped off the mohawk and his brown locks had started graying. He wore eyeglasses now, along with a Black Sabbath t-shirt (much like the one Amelia had), and was carrying two giggling children into the kitchen - a girl on his back and a boy in his arms. The little boy was maybe eight or so, the little girl, maybe five or six.

Amelia knew at once that these two kids were her little brother and sister. They looked just like her - honey blonde curls, hazel eyes and soft features. They were her siblings.

She had _two_ little siblings. She had parents, a _family_, and she wasn't even a part of it. She wasn't supposed to be a part of it, and that killed her inside. She couldn't handle it.

With an intense bundle of emotion in her chest, she left. She didn't go back to 12 Grimmauld Place, she couldn't not just yet. She stopped in a nearby coffee shop and decided to spend the time sipping coffee and flipping through Muggle magazines to try and clear her head.

* * *

"I can't believe that you let her go," Zinnia muttered, pacing nervous lines on the kitchen floor, as she glared at Sirius. "I can't believe you just let her go out in London, alone! She's only sixteen, Sirius!"

"She's fine, she'll be fine," Sirius waved off, sipping his drink. "She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"That may be, but it isn't safe out there!" Zinnia continued. "What if….what if my ex-husband or sons found her? Hm?"

"Zinnia, I'm sure….," Sirius faltered, struggling to counter her argument there.

"I can go out after her," Moody offered, as he'd just returned from St. Mungo's with the Weasleys and Harry.

"I'll help look, too," Mrs. Weasley piped up.

Fred glanced at George, who glanced back at him.

"Just think, she could be dead," George said. "And her last memory of you will be you yelling at her."

Fred, for a moment, looked like he was about to punch his twin. He didn't, as he was interrupted by the screams of Mrs. Black's portrait in the entry hall.

"_HALF-BLOOD FILTH, DISGRACING THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS_!" the portrait roared.

"_Shut up_!" countered a voice - unmistakably, Amelia's voice.

Only moments later, she appeared into the kitchen. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her hands stuffed into the pockets of her denim jacket. She stared at everyone, clearly wondering why they were all staring at her in such a manner.

"Amelia Frances!" Zinnia exclaimed, wrapping her up and peppering her with nervous yet relieved kisses. "I can't believe you went off like that, alone, it's a miracle you've made it back alive…."

"I had to do it, Gran," Amelia shrugged off, creating room between the two. "I….I'm here, though, and I'm awfully tired….I'm going to go up and do a bit of school reading, and then I'll head to bed….you can punish me tomorrow."

Zinnia didn't argue, maybe because she didn't have time to. Amelia made her way through everyone else in the kitchen and up the stairs before her grandmother had even had time to process her words. She went upstairs, shut herself in her room, plopped down onto her bed and kicked her boots off.

Lost in her thoughts, she stared off into space.


	50. Replacements and Ideas

**Hello! I'm back with another chapter, and I'm nearly to the Christmas chapter! Yes, I know, I missed the season, but it's still exciting because I still love Christmas!**

**As always, thank you so much for all the support! It means the world to me and always brings a smile to my face, so please, PLEASE don't be afraid to fav/follow or REVIEW! Reviews I especially love...speaking of, can we PLEASE GET TO 100 REVIEWS? WE'RE SO CLOSE! PLEASE, GUYS? **

**Okay, I'll shut up. Thanks again. Enjoy! :-)**

* * *

Just as expected, Amelia had been punished. She was sentenced to her room until Christmas Eve day. Zinnia let her out to use the bathroom, of course, and brought her meals, but she was forbidden to leave to chat or whatever else with the other kids in the house.

Amelia found herself not really hating the punishment - she spent most of it reading. She got all of her homework done in a couple of hours, and then had decided to re-read some of her favorite books for fun, starting with Slaughterhouse-Five. Lucy was there to keep her company as well, either sleeping on her chest or lap, or chewing everything in sight. She was an odd cat like that, she loved to chew. It got kind of annoying, after Amelia had discovered that Lucy had chewed and clawed through the copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard that Cedric had gotten her for Christmas, and chewed and clawed it far beyond repair, much to Amelia's dismay. She was very sad about it, but she didn't punish Lucy. She was just a cat, she didn't know.

Though Lucy was the only other living thing allowed in her room, besides Ramses, who came through the window for a treat once or twice, that didn't mean Amelia was alone. Fred and George had been slipping her notes beneath her door when Zinnia wasn't around, keeping her updated on the happenings in the house.

Everyone was quite worried about Harry, about him maybe being possessed or whatever else, though Fred and George were still slightly wary of him due to the fact that he'd seen their father being attacked in his dream. Their dad was doing better, though, much better. He was feeling better, but stuck in the hospital because the wound kept bleeding, despite the Healer's best efforts to stop it. Fred had apologized for being short-tempered with her as well, and she said it was alright, and told him about her parents in return.

She only had one day left to be confined in her room. She was happy about that, because now that she'd reconciled with Fred, she was dying to see him and actually talk to him rather than just write notes - and hell, maybe even more.

Currently, it was mid-morning, and Amelia was about three-quarters of the way through Jane Eyre. She was laying lazily on her stomach atop her bed, with Lucy kneading her back, trying to make a more comfortable place for herself to lay.

A loud crash at the window caused Amelia to jump, and come back into her world, rather than remaining in Jane Eyre's. She leapt off her bed, and looked out the window to see Phoebe's scatterbrained owl, Fortuna, on the ground again. The owl regained herself, and flew back up to the window, with a parcel in tow.

"Oh, Fortuna, you clumsy thing," Amelia mumbled, a slightly bemused smile on her face as she let the owl inside. "In you come."

Fortuna twittered in, dropping the parcel and attached letter into Amelia's hands, before landing on Ramses' owl perch and drinking nearly all of his water. Amelia gave her an owl treat (or a few) and the owl was off just as quickly as she'd come, leaving Amelia with the parcel. She picked the letter off of it, opened it, and read:

_Amelia,_

_This is your Christmas gift! DO NOT OPEN IT UNTIL CHRISTMAS! Please don't. I've charmed it to explode if you open it before Christmas. That'd be a shame, because I think you'll really like it. So, DON'T OPEN IT UNTIL CHRISTMAS!_

_With Love,_  
_Phoebe Eleanor Hibbert_

Amelia chuckled, as she was able to hear Phoebe in her head as she read the letter. With a loving, amused kind of smile, she set the package on her desk, knowing it'd only be two days until the suspense would be lifted.

When she turned around to walk back to her bed, she saw Lucy attacking her favorite sweater, which was laying haphazardly on the floor. All of her belongings were on the floor now. That's what happened when a teen spent too much time locked in their room - everything they owned ended up on the floor.

"Lucy, no!" Amelia exclaimed, lunging for the small cat.

As soon as she did, she heard a loud SNAP! beneath her left foot and she knew it wasn't good. After taking a deep breath, she gathered the courage to actually look down, and saw what she'd done.

She'd snapped her wand in half.

Devastated, she bent over, picking up the remaining pieces. Two pieces, snapped clean in half. She had one in each hand, and upon further inspection, she noticed that Lucy must've chewed on it too - chewed through it so much she'd reached the core, which was now missing the unicorn hair. She looked over at her cat, and saw that a bit of a silvery hair was hanging from her mouth, only to be swallowed moments after Amelia had noticed.

"Oh, dear," came Zinnia's voice from the doorway. "C'mon then, we've got to go to Ollivander's….bring the pieces, just in case there's any hope…."

* * *

It had been five years since Amelia had been into Ollivander's, and once again, to her disappointment, she was going in alone. She had wanted her grandmother to come in with her, but she knew that her grandmother leaving 12 Grimmauld Place was a risk in itself, and understood why she couldn't go into the shop, but rather, wait outside in her Animagus form. She gave her granddaughter the money, and sent her in.

Despite not having been in for five years, the shop hadn't changed. It looked exactly as it did in Amelia's memory - dusty shelves full of wand boxes, dim light, and an air of mystique.

"Can I help you, Miss?" came Mr. Ollivander's voice, as he shuffled into the light.

"Er, yeah," Amelia nodded, thrusting her broken wand pieces forward. "I stepped on my wand this morning, and it broke clean in half…."

"I see, I see," Mr. Ollivander replied, taking the pieces into his own hands for further examination. "I recall now….Amelia Honeycutt, dogwood, 14 ¼ inches, unicorn hair, surprisingly swishy….do you have the unicorn hair with you as well?"

"No," Amelia admitted, slightly embarrassed. "My….my cat ate it…."

"Well, then, I suppose we've got to find you a new wand, or rather, let a new wand find you….," Mr. Ollivander mused. He pulled a box from a shelf, and handed her the wand inside, saying, "13 ⅔ inches, elm, and unicorn hair. Quite flexible….give it a go, Miss Honeycutt."

So, she accepted the wand, and took it into her hand. Immediately, she felt it go quite cold, and a gust of black smoke erupted from the tip, causing both she and Mr. Ollivander to nearly cough up a lung. He proceeded to keep hand her wands, wand after wand, for what seemed like hours. Wand after wand, they rejected her, and Amelia quickly began to lose hope. She figured if the process continued like this, she'd never find a wand, they all seemed to hate her.

Mr. Ollivander, however, had not lost any steam, and the harder it became to find her a wand, the more enthused he seemed to become to find her one. Finally, an idea seemed to spark in his brain.

"One moment, Miss Honeycutt," he said, raising a finger. "I have a particular wand in the back that I'm thinking of, it might work….yes….stay put…."

He slipped back into his office, and came back with a particularly dusty box that looked old and as if it had some water damage as well.

"This is one of the first wands I ever made, Miss Honeycutt," Mr. Ollivander explained, lifting the lid off of the box. "Years and years ago, I made this, 12 3/4 inches, hawthorn and phoenix feather, quite rigid….I actually did manage to sell it, but some twenty or so years ago it decided not to be loyal to its original owner, who returned it to me and purchased another….since then, it's rejected every witch or wizard I've tried it on….but, I have a feeling it might take a liking for you…."

Hesitantly, Amelia accepted the wand into her hands. As soon as she did, she felt an indescribable warmth surge through her veins, coursing through her whole body. She lifted the wand into the air, and golden sparks burst through the air, like small, rather sweet-smelling fireworks. She looked at them in awe, knowing she'd found her new wand, and across from her, Mr. Ollivander looked equally enchanted.

"I believe your wand has chosen you, Miss Honeycutt," Mr. Ollivander smiled. "Now, I'll tell you, this wand has quite the mind of its own….quite a sense of justice. Use it wisely and care for it greatly, and don't let it get chewed or stepped on, and I'm sure you'll find that you've found yourself quite a partner….7 galleons, please…."

* * *

Back at 12 Grimmauld Place, Fred and George were right at work in their room. They were very busy packaging orders of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes into boxes, for all of the Hogwarts students that'd placed orders for Christmas, which happened to be quite a lot. While they were doing this, Fred's mind was reeling - he'd just realized that he'd probably need to get something for Amelia for Christmas, now that they were dating once again.

"What's on your mind, Forge?" George inquired, as he set a finished package aside.

"Well, I was thinking about the fact that I probably need to get Amelia something for Christmas," Fred said, half-distracted in his thoughts.

"Yeah, you probably do, and you're running out of time," George agreed. "What were you thinking of?"

"I dunno," Fred shrugged. "What do you reckon girls usually want for Christmas?"

"I have no idea," George said.

"Did you get a present for Amelia?" Fred asked.

"Yes," George confirmed. "But you can't get her what I got her. That's not the point….and besides, I'm not her _boyfriend_."

"Well….didn't you get Phoebe something?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," George nodded. "A year's subscription to the Quibbler, because she loves that sort of rubbish, and a box of Chocolate Frogs. But I don't think that's the sort of stuff that Amelia would want."

Before Fred could reply, the door swung open, revealing Ginny, already in her coat and hat.

"We're going to visit Dad in about ten minutes," she told them. "Mum wants you two to get ready."

"Ginny, what sorts of things do girls want for Christmas?" Fred questioned, completely ignoring what she'd just said.

Raising an eyebrow, Ginny inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know what to get Amelia," Fred admitted.

"Well, girls like nice things," Ginny said, taking a step into the room. "Y'know, things that aren't dungbombs or Acid Pops or whatever those things are….," she paused, eyeballing what looked like gummy worms slithering around in their dish. "I certainly wouldn't want any of those."

"I'm not talking about your gift, I'm talking about Amelia's," Fred muttered, a tad annoyed. "And she has a far more refined sense of humor than you do."

"Whatever," Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes. "You asked for my opinion, and I'm giving it to you."

"I see it's useless now," Fred grumbled, making his way past her.

"Where're you going?" George asked.

"Going to her room, for ideas," Fred admitted, as if it was completely okay.

George and Ginny exchanged glances, clearly indicating that it was not okay in their opinions.

"You can't just go in her room!" Ginny exclaimed, in disbelief that her brother would do such a thing.

"She's not here," Fred shrugged. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

So, despite Ginny's protests, he left the room and went into Amelia's. She wasn't in there for the first time in a few days, since she'd broken her wand that morning, quite unfortunately. Since Zinnia had been quite stringent with her punishment, Fred was surprised that she was allowed out to get a new wand before the punishment was over. Either way, with both Amelia and Zinnia out of the house, it provided him the perfect opportunity for some snooping….

He came into her bedroom, the one at the end of the hall. He creaked the door open, revealing the old guest bedroom that had recently been converted to be Amelia's bedroom. The place was a mess, with clothes, books, papers and everything else strewn all over the floor, like the remnants of a hurricane. On top of her bed, eating the pages out of a book, was Amelia's kitten, Lucy, who did not seem to care that she'd been caught red-pawed by Fred.

"Stupid cat," he muttered, placing the black cat on the floor and away from the book.

She didn't look pleased about it, and hissed at Fred before scampering under the bed. Fred rolled his eyes, and picked up the remnants of the book that Lucy had left behind, and saw that it was a copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard. The front cover, though chewed, was still intact, though the innards of the book had been destroyed by cat paws and teeth. Fred was just able to make out the writing on the inside of the front cover -

_To Amelia, Love Cedric, Christmas 1991._

_P.S. - 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' was always my favorite._

At first, Fred found himself a bit angry at the sight. Why would she bother to keep a stupid book like this around, especially when Cedric had been the one to give to her?

But, then, Fred thought about it. Amelia said they were like siblings. What if George died and all he had left of him was a book and an old Quidditch jersey? Surely, he'd want to keep these things. And with that train of thought, he understood why Amelia had decided to keep it around.

And he knew he had to fix it for her. And, upon seeing Amelia's favorite necklace lying on her nightstand, he had another stroke of genius ideas as well.

Satisfied with the fact he'd finally had an idea, Fred smirked, and muttered, "Thank Merlin."


	51. Christmas Morning

**So, I'm back with the first of two Christmas chapters, which I find very exciting! I love Christmas, so...yeah.**

**As usual, I've got to thank you guys for all the support you've shown me. It means more than you could imagine, so PLEASE don't be afraid to fav/follow or REVIEW! Thank you for getting me to my goal of 100! Let's keep that number growing, yeah?**

**And, if you want to leave any questions as well, feel free to do so. I'd be happy to answer any questions. **

**Thanks again, now I'll shut up and let you enjoy. :-)**

* * *

Amelia awoke in surprisingly high spirits on Christmas morning, after spending Christmas Eve day decorating the house with Christmas decor, to the point that it was barely recognizable. After rising to sit in bed and swatting Lucy off of her face and rubbing her eyes, she saw the pile of gifts at the foot of her bed. She could've cried right then and there, seeing all of them, and knowing all the kind and caring people that'd gotten them for her really warmed her heart.

"Happy Christmas!" came Ginny and Hermione, sticking their smiling faces in the door.

"Mind if we come in to open presents together?" Ginny inquired. "Harry and Ron are, so we figured we'd come to see you…."

"If you don't mind," Hermione added hastily, as if she were intensely worried about bothering Amelia.

"Not at all, c'mon in," Amelia smiled, clearing room for them to sit on the bed with her. "Plenty of room."

Hermione and Ginny took the invitation, and plopped in Amelia's bed with her, armfuls of gifts in tow. They passed Amelia her pile of gifts, and they all started opening.

Ginny ended up loving the Holyhead Harpies scarf and hat that Amelia had knitted her. Amelia was a little nervous about it, nervous that she'd misremembered Ginny's favorite Quidditch team, but she was quite relieved and happy now to see that Ginny really liked the present. Hermione also ended up really liking the O.W.L prep book too, but Amelia wasn't as worried about that as she was Ginny's.

When Ginny and Hermione had made their way through their piles of presents, they urged Amelia to dig into hers.

The first she opened was a book about Defense Against the Dark Arts from Professor Lupin and Sirius, with an attached note that it was to be used to help everyone out with the DA. Her immediate reaction was that she was shocked that the two of them were so kind to get her something, and how bad she felt that she hadn't thought to get either of them anything in return.

"Don't feel bad, you wouldn't have known," Ginny told her, touching a light hand to Amelia's arm. "Keep opening, let's see!"

So, she did, and the next gift she reached for was from Leanne, who'd sent her a pair of adorably festive Christmas socks in the post, as well as an equally cute pair with bumblebees. Herb sent her a box of sweets. Harry and Ron pooled together and got her a box of Honeyduke's chocolate. Hermione had gotten her a very nice homework planner, which she figured would come in very handy. Ginny had made her a very artful collage of photographs of the Weird Sisters, after remembering a past conversation about liking their music. Phoebe's box was full of goodies - Chocolate Frogs, a pretty little bottle of lavender perfume (Amelia's favorite scent) with a matching set of incense, a little scrapbook of photographs of them and the rest of their friends, and a book on the history of Muggle punk music (Amelia's favorite kind) that she said she'd found in a in a used record store back home in Dublin. The card Phoebe enclosed was heart warming as well, and quite literally put Amelia in tears as she read:

_To My Very Best Friend, Amelia Frances Honeycutt,_

_I can't thank you enough for being my friend for the past six years. Most people just thought I was a freak with rats, but you saw past that, and I can't thank you enough. You've been here for me through rat deaths, through gruelling Potions exams, embarrassing moments, and tear-filled nights and you've been the best. I never imagined I'd be lucky enough to have a friend like you. You're beautiful, intelligent, kind, caring, and you've become like a sister to me._

_I love you oh-so-much and wish you the happiest of Christmases possible._

_With Love,_

_Phoebe Eleanor Hibbert_

_P.S. - I wish I could be there with you. Merlin knows it's better than my house….I've told you enough about how stuffy and boring my family is. At least I have Danny (my little Gryffindor cousin) to talk magic with._

_P.S.S. - I hope you get lots of Christmas snogs from Fred!_

Once Ginny and Hermione had coaxed Amelia out of her crying, she finally was able to finish opening. Herb sent her a book about Quidditch with a sarcastic note about her needing to study up. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory sent her a box of sweets and a very nice pair of gold and navy blue knit mittens. George gave her a miniature figure of Umbridge riding a unicycle, which greatly humored her, along with a very nice card. Her grandmother had bought her a new leather jacket, a lined one, and a kind of fanged leather backpack that looked like a normal one, but in reality, had endless room inside. There was a note attached saying it was for all her school things, and not to let anyone else reach in - it'd bite the fingers off of anyone that wasn't her.

The last present Amelia had to open was very puffy, and very haphazardly wrapped in old _Daily Prophet_ papers and Christmas ribbons. Ginny looked particularly excited to see Amelia open it, though she insisted she wasn't the one behind the gift.

Upon opening it, Amelia immediately realized what it was - she'd gotten her own Weasley jumper.

It was a rich golden yellow, the softest of yarns, and had a deep green 'A' knitted in the center.

"See, Mum made you one because you're practically family now," Ginny smiled brightly. "Isn't that great? It'll be great to have someone fun in the family."

Family. The word stung in Amelia's ears, as her thoughts immediately shot back to the happy family with the two beautiful children in the cozy home in London, where she wasn't supposed to be. She knew Ginny hadn't meant for the word to have that effect on her, no, in fact, she knew Ginny had meant for it to be kind and loving, but the word stung nonetheless.

"Thanks, Ginny," Amelia grinned, pulling herself together as she accepted the younger girl's eager hug. "Y'know, I've always wanted a little sister."

It was true, Amelia had always wanted a little sister to mentor, joke with, do makeovers on, etc. Now, she had one in Ginny. And a biological little sister across town….

"And I've always wanted a sister," Ginny replied brightly, brushing her equally bright hair from her eyes. "I'd gladly trade Ron for you, any day."

"Thanks," Amelia smiled once again. She knew Ginny's words were true.

Hermione and Ginny left the room so Amelia could get dressed. She'd decided on an outfit which included her new Weasley jumper. She'd just picked up the camisole she'd laid out on her bed, to wear beneath the sweater, of course, when a familiar pop! sound nearly scared her shitless.

"Fred!" she screeched, nervously covering herself as she saw him from the corner of her eye. "What the bloody hell are you doing, you arse!"

"No, don't rush, I quite like the view," Fred replied casually. He walked right up and sat on her bed, though she quickly turned around. She only faced him once her camisole was on, which prompted him to say, "Not bad, but I liked the previous look better."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She slipped her Weasley sweater over her head, handed Fred a present from beneath her bed, sat next to him, and sighed, with a slight grin, "Happy Christmas."

"You look positively adorable in that," Fred told her. He was looking her up and down with a twinkle in his eye, and added, "I've gotten a bit sick of them, after getting one for the past seventeen years, but you were made to wear Weasley jumpers, love."

"Well, thanks," Amelia replied. "I'll really have to give your mum a great big thank you."

"You might want to wait on that," Fred warned her. "She's really got her panties in a twist. Percy - y'know my one brother that's a real git, I've told you - well, he sent his sweater back this morning, no note or anything, and Mum's been a mess all morning."

"Poor thing," Amelia sympathized. "You're mum's such a dear….anyway, are you going to open your gift or am I going to have to do it for you?"

"Fine, fine," Fred muttered with a playful haughtiness.

With surprisingly careful fingers, Fred peeled the wrapping paper off the package. Inside of the paper, he found a rather small box, the size that rings usually came in, which left him even more perplexed. His first thought was that Amelia had bought him a ring….but after just a moment more of thought, he realized how preposterous that idea would be. Why in hell would she have bought him a ring?

However, when he actually opened the box, he saw what couldn't be anything else but a ring.

Seeing how perplexed Fred was over the gift, Amelia laughed, and lifted it out of the box for him. She held it up, so both she and Fred could see through it, and said, "It's a little bit like a Pensieve….you can use it to see your thoughts, but also your dreams - you told me you have the best ideas in your dreams for joke stuff, but can't remember it, so I thought it'd be useful."

"Brilliant," Fred mumbled, taking it back into his hands for examination. "How's it work?"

"Well, whoever touches it gets their whole mind recorded, in a way," Amelia said. "Er, here….you need to tell it what to show you….for example, show me on the Express for the first time."

The ring expanded in Fred's hands, so the scene playing in the center could be visible - a young, messy haired, bright eyed and bushy-tailed Amelia was boarding the Hogwarts Express. So excited, that she face planted as she stepped onto the train, causing Fred to burst out laughing.

"That's enough," Amelia said quickly, and the ring's center went back to being empty and it shrunk back to normal-size.

"That's brilliant, really, thank you," Fred said, pressing a quick kiss to Amelia's forehead. "Where'd you get this?"

"Well, I read about some similar instruments that used to be used by Chinese wizards, a long time ago," Amelia started. "I thought it was really interesting, but they're not available outside of certain parts of China, so I made my own, and then I thought you'd get more use of it than I would."

"I love it, I love you, and I love that genius brain of yours," Fred grinned. He seemed to pull a present out of thin air to hand to her, and said, "Time to open yours now."

"Thank you," she said, accepting it.

She started blushing profusely, something that only made Fred want to kiss her even more than he usually did.

She was not at all careful removing the _Daily Prophet_ scraps that covered the box, and quickly got to the gift inside. She was shocked to see a copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_, and even more surprised when she flipped it open and saw the writing on the inside of the front cover:

_To Amelia, Love Cedric, Christmas 1991._

_P.S. - 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' was always my favorite._

"You….you fixed it?" Amelia muttered, in disbelief.

"Took a good few mending charms, but yeah," nodded Fred. "I thought it'd mean a lot to you, y'know….I thought about what you said, about Cedric being to you what George is to me, and I thought I'd want it fixed if that was me, so…."

"Thank you," Amelia said, with genuine tears in her eyes as she smiled over at Fred. "Thank you, so much, really."

"Oh, it's no - …." Fred began, though he was abruptly cut off when Amelia nearly leapt on him. She was hugging him, tighter than ever, and he couldn't help but to hug her back.

"I'm glad you're so happy," he said. He pulled her locket from his pocket, and handed it to her, adding, "But there's this too."

"You took this too?" Amelia inquired, accepting it with a slight grin.

"Just open it, will you?" he replied with a bright smile.

Obliging, she pulled the halves of the locket open, though she did it with a slight roll of her eyes. As soon as she did so, she realized what Fred had done - he'd made it like a little book inside, so that four pictures were displayed, rather than just the one. Of course, the first picture was still the one of her, her parents and Zinnia.

The next was her, Cedric, and Herb, taken in the Diggory's garden during Easter holiday of her fourth year. Ced and Herb had their brooms in tow, and each had an arm around Amelia from each side. She was squashed in the middle, mid-laugh, with her Herbology book clutched against her chest.

Third was her and Phoebe during their first year, in front of the Christmas tree in the Great Hall. They were half hugging each other, both laughing. Phoebe was laughing so hard that her eyes were closed, and her smile widely genuine. It was an adorable picture, and Amelia kind of hated to think how much had changed since the two girls were exuberant and lively first years.

Finally, the last photograph was of her and Fred. It was the two of them in the crowd last school year, during the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament, caught between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fan sections. Fred had her arms around her in the photo, and she had her eyes closed, laughing, with her head tossed back slightly. Fred's eyes were wide open, and the way he was looking at her in the picture said more than a thousand words.

"Where'd you get this?" Amelia said, slightly in awe, as she held it up for Fred to see.

"Well, the ones of you and the Hufflepuffs I nicked from your room as well," Fred explained. "The one of us was from Colin Creevey - he's a younger Gryffindor that takes pictures of literally _everything_ that happens at Hogwarts. Left a photo album lying out in the common room one day, and, well, I took the one of us."

"Fred, you're the best," Amelia said. "Thank you, so much. Really."

"Not a problem, love," he replied with a sly wink.

He then proceeded to lean in for a kiss, and was shocked when Amelia actually allowed him to kiss her, because she could be so finicky about kissing and things at times. Not only did she let him kiss her, but she actually kissed him back.

Amelia's mind was flooded with thoughts. She knew she loved Fred without a doubt and she wondered what the hell she ever did right to deserve such a boyfriend. For a moment, she didn't even care about her family without her, she did have Fred, after all….

"I love you," Amelia said breathlessly and very suddenly.

"I love you too," Fred responded, before wrapping her up in a kiss once again.

Amelia wished she could've stayed in that moment for an eternity, kissing Fred, just him and her, together, on Christmas. But, in reality, it only lasted for a minute, if even that, before they were interrupted.

"Sorry to barge in, lovebirds," came George's voice, after her appeared with a_ pop!_. "But Mum wants you two down for Christmas lunch."


End file.
